


Hunter and Prey

by drowning_ophelia



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Antichrist, Don't Judge Me, Drop it low for Satan, F/M, Here to disappoint my literature professors, I did this because I needed more Michael Langdon in my life, Notice me Satan, Original Fiction, Please Don't Hate Me, Please don't hate me mom, Power Couple, Satan whispered into my ear and I just followed his instructions, Set before the Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-07-29 02:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowning_ophelia/pseuds/drowning_ophelia
Summary: "I’ve learned now that you were trying to escape it, trying to escape your darkness and demons. But why bother? Why not bask in it, embrace your hunger for evilness. Stop turning the mirrors around, and look at yourself. At what you can become."





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was desperate for more Michael Langdon in my life and figured I might try sharing my pathetic attempt at getting some dreamscapes out of my head (sometimes my fingers can’t keep up with my imagination). Hope you enjoy!  
> Quick disclaimer: I’m not a native speaker, so please be patient with me.
> 
> (Feel free to exchange her name with yours if you feel so inclined.)
> 
> Rated M for future smut, as in dirty-devil-worshipping-sex!

Darkness had swallowed the world around me a while ago, and still, I couldn’t get my body to move. It felt like I was glued to the roof I was perched on, my legs dangling over the edge. All I needed was a little push. Just a little push, and then…

  
“Valentine.” William’s cool voice stopped me from skidding closer to what might as well be an abyss. “This new flirtation of yours is getting dangerous,” he noted, holding out his hand. I scoffed and looked into the welcoming darkness beneath me, one last time.  
William didn’t wait for me to accept his wordless gesture of helping me up.

  
“I wouldn’t have jumped,” I snapped as he pulled me up and back towards the heavy door, “Like you said, it’s a flirtation. Not a full-blown relationship.” He just arched an eyebrow in disbelief and shuffled me back inside.  
“Is there anything we need to talk about?” he checked. Absentmindedly I smoothed over my clothes, not in the mood to speak to him.  
“Do you want to die?”  
His question made my head snap up, “Why would you ask that?”  
“Because this is the third time I’ve found you out there,” he gestured towards the door that was supposed to be used by ‘authorized personnel only’.

  
I took a moment to appreciate the once mysterious man that had looked after me for the last two years. Things would be so much easier if all I wanted in life was him.  
William was tall, about six-foot-two, lean yet muscular, and I’ve always thought that he should model — preferably naked because I knew the perfection that was hidden under his casual attire. Of course, he had also been blessed with perfectly symmetrical facial features and cheekbones that were sharp enough to cut cheese. He was ridiculously handsome.  
His eyes were a tantalizing mixture of a lighter blue with the slightest hint of green, depending on the light that hit them. I remembered when those eyes had looked at me with lust and affection, and not with the worry that was written in them now. When he ran his fingers through his dark blonde hair, an unconscious movement he often did, I fell out of my daze.

  
“I need some air,” I declared, evading the discussion for now.  
“You just got back inside,” he noted with a frown and pressed his lips into a thin line. I gave him a look and started towards the stairs that would lead me back to a floor from where I could take the elevator.

  
“You can’t run away from me.”  
I halted, turning on my heel, “Please, let me try. Just for tonight. I promise to be careful. And I’ll be back in my room by dawn.”  
William took a deep breath and rubbed his brow in defeat, “Fine. I promise I’ll let you run freely tonight.”  
I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling too broadly, “Thank you.”

  
With curiosity, he followed my movements as I fumbled for my necklace. Before he could voice his disapproval, I hurried to say, “You said freely. I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself.”  
He held his palm out so I could give him the necklace, “I know you can. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with this.”  
“Thank you,” I just said, leaned in and kissed his cheek, the skin icy against my warm lips.

 

 

The moment I stepped out of the hotel and onto the streets of Seattle, I was greeted by the same clammy air that I already knew from the rooftop. The city’s climate was already beginning to sink into my chest, announcing that I would probably be in bed with a cold before too long.

  
Although it was past ten pm, the streets were still filled with tourists and people looking for a good time. Me, on the other hand, I was just looking forward to getting lost between strangers. Grateful for the anonymity and the lack of interest I was shown, I kept wandering through the city, the clicking of my boots against the concrete a constant, reassuring sound.

  
Eventually, when my breath started to cloud and the chill bit into my cheeks, I stopped dead in my tracks. With a frown, I looked around myself only to realize that I had put a lot of distance between me and the hotel. So much so, that I was currently standing in the dim light of a weak streetlamp that failed piteously at illuminating the sidewalk I found myself on.  
“Strange…” I murmured to myself, realizing that I had wandered out of the city without having any recollection of it.

  
The neighborhood looked shady and deserted, with decrepit houses lining the street. A musty, foul smell hung in the air, and there was no soul in sight. A streetlamp further down flickered irregularly, almost distracting me from the steps that were sounding somewhere behind me. Almost.  
A glance on my phone told me that there was no service, meaning that there was no way for me to call for help. My hands curled into fists, my nails digging into my palms painfully when I realized that this was a set-up. I had walked straight into a set-up, without realizing it until now…without wearing my necklace.

  
My body was tingling with nervous anticipation when I turned around, my eyes searching the darkness for even the slightest shadow of the person who had followed me.  
“Don’t be a coward,” I hissed into the darkness, trying to lure my haunter from his or her hiding spot. My heart hammered in my chest when I thought I’d seen a silhouette moving towards the light of one of the streetlamps further down the road. I squinted, hoping to see clearer in the darkness.

  
With my focus elsewhere, I was caught off guard when I felt a warm breath at my ear, “I’m right here.” It was a man’s voice. A voice soft like velvet, placid and enticing, but laced with icy venom underneath.

  
I knew better than to turn around, so, instead, I tried to look from the corner of my eyes. But there was nothing there. In fact, what I saw there was utterly different from the street I found myself in.  
“This is a bluff,” I breathed, a smile playing on my lips as I believed to have caught on to what was happening here. This wasn’t a set-up, it wasn’t even a trick — it was a test.

  
My hands relaxed and I started to feel the stinging pain of the marks my nails had left on my skin. I concentrated and closed my eyes, reaching for something that was hidden deep inside of me. When I opened them, I was no longer on that deserted street.  
I found myself at the entrance of a side alley of a busier street. No one noticed me as I stood, taking it all in with the fascination of a young child. Without much effort, I had broken whatever illusion that had been built around me.

  
As people were casually strolling past the side alley, chatting, laughing, and enjoying themselves, my spine straightened with a sense of accomplishment.  
“Intriguing,” the voice from earlier crooned. This time, it was real. This time, someone was standing behind me.  
Slowly, I turned around, curious to find out who had been playing tricks on me before. It definitely wasn’t William, although he might have the power it took to build a falsified reality for the mind. Maybe it was someone from the nest, someone I had yet to meet?

  
Although the darkness of the side alley covered him like a soft veil, I could tell that he was staggeringly beautiful. With feline grace, he took a step towards me, allowing the light from the street to illuminate his handsome features, his full lips curled up in a small smile. His face was framed by soft wheat blonde waves that reached past his collarbone, and his long coat looked like it had been made of night itself.

  
I swallowed hard when I met his eyes, those ice blue eyes that shone with faint amusement, danger, and something else that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Arrogance and poise radiated from him, as he scrutinized me as if I was something he could toy with as he pleased.  
He wasn’t from the nest. No one associated with William or my mentor, Clémence, would dare to play with me. They knew better. And he was different. Very, very different.

  
“Who are you?” I demanded, lifting my chin with whatever pride I had left in me after he had practically stripped me naked with nothing but his gaze.  
“The far more interesting question is who you are,” his words were smooth, like a snake gliding through water. He took a step towards me. Then another, and another until his legs had eaten up the distance between us.

  
“You caught on to my game. You’re the first to ever do that,” he noted, wickedness glistening in his eyes, “Tell me what you are.”  
“That’s none of your business,” I scoffed, folding my arms in front of my body protectively.  
“You just made yourself my business,” he hissed and pierced me with his stare, “Now tell me what you are.”  
“What I am is tired of walking down your sorry-ass dreamscape. What I am is annoyed of having to explain myself to a total stranger. What I am is pissed off, so find someone else to play your mind games on, I’m outta here.”  
I was walking a dangerous line, but I knew that I couldn’t tell him who, or what I was.

  
As I turned my back on him without waiting for a response, I held my breath. My nails found their wounds from earlier and drew blood. I dove into the bustle of the people, storming back to the hotel. On my way, I didn’t dare to look behind myself a single time.

 

 

The moment I had stepped through the hotel doors, a sense of relief had washed over me. But now, in the elevator, my stomach turned leaden. For some reason, I wasn’t sure it was possible to outrun the man I had just encountered.  
I silently hoped that William was waiting in the suite, that he had not gone out to find something to eat. But when I unlocked the door with the keycard, I realized that the rooms were all deserted.

With an uneasy feeling, I found my necklace and pulled it over my head, tugging it under my cashmere sweater securely. My flirtation with danger was officially over.  
In an attempt to calm myself down, I made myself a cup of tea and savored the heat of the porcelain against my skin as I carried it into the lounge.  
But the room was no longer empty.  
To my horror, I found the stranger sitting on the couch with a nonchalance that suggested this was his space, not mine. I gaped at him in utter disbelief. How had he gotten in without me noticing?

  
“We never finished our talk. Sit,” he gestured elegantly to the armchair across from him, the same small smile on his lips from before.  
It felt like I was rooted to the floor, unable to take a step back or forth.  
“It wasn’t an invitation. It was an order,” he added, his smile faltering slightly as he grew impatient with me, “Sit.”

  
I could feel in my bones that he was dangerous, but I stood my ground. For a moment I even considered throwing my cup at him but decided against it.  
“I’ve been watching you,” he declared and got up in one fluid motion, “have seen how you yearned for darkness, for death.” His steps were slow and deliberate as he walked towards me, his hands folded behind his back.  
“Get away from me,” I snarled when he began to circle me, sizing me up, like a hunter would its prey.

  
“What are you?” He repeated his question as he stopped before me and rested a hand under his chin, regarding me intently.  
“I thought I made myself clear before,” I noted coldly.  
A dark chuckle escaped him, “You, my dear, are very, very bold. A characteristic that usually doesn’t sit well with me.” His hand reached for me, but he reconsidered only inches before touching my cheek. “You hold a certain fascination,” he breathed, “At least tell me your name.”

  
“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” I offered, and fought the urge to throw my hot tea into his beautiful face.  
“I’m Michael Langdon.” He tilted his head in predatory anticipation.  
“Valentine Sheridan,” I gave him a small nod and immediately regretted the polite gesture.

  
“Why won’t you tell me what you are, Valentine?”  
Just when I wanted to open my mouth to snap something back at him, his eyes shifted from me towards the door. “Someone has come to rescue you,” he announced with irritation.

  
“It’s always dangerous to assume you have the upper hand when in reality you’re inferior,” I noted with a pulled up eyebrow. Michael’s nostrils flared delicately, indicating that his annoyance was turning to anger.  
“How dare you call me inferior?” his tone was dripping with venom.  
The beast that was slumbering within me, opened an eye in curiosity at his tone and stretched lazily as if warming itself up to bare its fangs. “It’s just a wild guess,” I smirked.

  
“Valentine, open up,” William’s voice was muffled through the door, and he knocked vehemently. I frowned. Why couldn’t he open the door?  
“She’s indisposed at the moment,” Michael called back before leaning down and whispering into my ear, “I’m not done with you yet.”  
He was using magic. No...not magic. Something else, something I had never felt before.

  
“But I’m done with you.” I waved my hand in dismissal and felt my power awaken. With utter astonishment, Michael reached for his throat, panic flashing in his eyes. “You’re human, you need air to breathe. And what I am…is powerful enough to take that basic need away from you.”  
I relished my triumph as he sunk to his knees before me, “Do you still believe you’re the hunter, Mr. Langdon?”

  
Before he could get unconscious, his eyes turned completely black, and one of his hands clasped around my wrist, pulling me down to him with a force that was beyond human. Something else had entered his body, using him as a vessel.

  
“You will learn that I am not your inferior.” Michael’s voice sounded distorted. It was no longer his own.  
Power surged through me, like millions of chains that were wrapping themselves around every bone, every fiber of my body. All I could do was slump to the floor, bound by whatever had possessed Michael.

  
My own power, the usually very protective and playful beast, had ducked and hidden away somewhere deep inside me. There was no way of reaching it.  
With a malicious laugh, Michael cupped my face, “I will have so much fun teaching you.”

  
Although I tried to struggle against his control, I couldn’t stop it from snaking through me until it eventually reached my mind. All I had left was to give in and let him take over. The world around me stilled, turned black, and I was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

A loud crack of thunder jolted me awake. Immediately I sat up and looked around, realizing that I wasn’t in the bed of my hotel suite — frankly, I doubted to still be in the same state.

  
Curious, I inspected my surroundings. A lamp on the bedside table dipped the room in soft light, revealing that I was in a house that must be located in the middle of a forest. The trees outside were swaying gently in the thunderstorm that had woken me up.  
Night still reigned, although I guessed that the sun would rise soon. There wasn’t a single streetlight, or any lights of a neighboring house to be seen. Wherever this place was, it had been built in utter isolation to maintain the highest level of privacy possible.

  
The room was mostly bare. At the floor to ceiling corner windows sat a heavy green armchair that would look inviting under other circumstances. Next to the spacious bed I was sitting in, it was the only furniture. To my right was a sliding door made of frosted glass that looked to be leading into a bathroom. To my left was a set of doors, probably a closet, and another glass door which would lead out of the room.

  
I held my breath, trying to make out any movement or sounds. But the house appeared to be dead silent, the only sound being the rain pattering against the windows.  
Careful to make as little noise as possible, I climbed out of bed.

Someone had changed my clothing. My jeans and sweater had been exchanged for an elegant, long-sleeved black gown that was cut from fluid silk. With its floor-skimming length and revealing neckline, it was too beautiful to just be worn to bed. And it revealed that it hadn’t been William who had put the dress on me. He would have known that I preferred a pair of comfortable pajamas and, most importantly, he wouldn’t have removed my necklace.

It came as a pleasant surprise that the dark grey concrete floor was heated so I wouldn’t have to put on the black satin slippers that waited at the bed. I needed to tiptoe around the house, to find out where I was and how to get out of here. The shoes weren’t exactly ideal for this plan, no matter how well they matched the dress.

Before leaving the room, I reached for my powers, but as it turned out, in vain. They were hidden somewhere in the deepest, darkest space of my usually overflowing well. And there was no way of accessing them at this point.

Carefully, I slid the door away, revealing a narrow hallway. The room I had woken up in was the last door to the right, the opposite wall being nothing but a long window facade.

While the storm swallowed what little noise my feet made against the floor, I snuck down the hall and ignored the other two closed doors I passed. The hallway appeared to end in a wide staircase, and a small ledge, framed by a minimalistic black wire railing allowed me to look down into the living space.  
Only one of the walls didn’t have any windows. Instead, it was covered in glossy white shelves that were completely filled with books. It was useless to attempt to guess how many books were stacked on the shelves, and for a moment I wondered whether my abductor had ever read them all.

In the middle of the room were an open fireplace, two couches and an armchair crafted of black velvet arranged around it. Michael rested on one of the chairs, holding a glass with amber liquid in one hand. His ice blue eyes were lit up by the crackling fire he was staring into in abstraction.  
“Finally awake?” he asked, not bothering to look up at me, “Please. Join me.”

Apparently, he had given up on giving me commands and was trying requests now. Interesting.

I padded down the glass staircase, the steps icy against my naked feet, deciding that I might as well speak to him. If he was so aware of me moving around the house, there was no chance to escape. At least not while he was awake.  
Michael followed my every move as I draped myself on the couch across from him, carefully arranging the skirt of my dress. His gaze wandered over me and a small smile, much different from the one he had worn before, spread on his lips. He looked appreciative.

“I took the liberty of dressing you,” he noted as if he expected me to thank him for it. “I hope you enjoyed it. Especially the underwear,” I snorted, “Please apologize that my outfit wasn’t appropriate for your…home.”

“Oh, this isn’t my home. It’s merely a residence,” he drawled and leaned forward. With a smooth movement, he offered me his drink.  
“Are you trying to poison me now?” I demanded, regarding him with suspicion.  
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead already.” He sat back and emptied the glass in one swig, looking at the fire as if it could give him answers to questions he hadn’t asked.

Although I didn’t want to admit it, I knew he was right. In the meantime, he had had more than one opportunity to slit my throat.

“Why I am I here then?”  
“Haven’t you paid attention to anything I’ve said?” he snapped viciously.

I tilted my head in surprise, shifting towards the edge of my seat so I could get a closer look at him. He was dressed in a black shirt, vest and dress pants and was still wearing boots. Not a single strand of his glorious hair was out of place, but his face bore signs of exhaustion.  
I sucked on my lip when I realized that him keeping me in check was wearing him out. Michael had kept himself awake because he couldn’t be sure to keep me asleep, and within this house.

“What do you want from me?” I tried to sound more gentle this time. There was no way in hell that he would let me go. And even if he would, I had no idea of how to get back to William. For better or for worse, I was stuck here. For now.

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted and met my gaze. His brows nudged together when he noticed that my contentiousness was gone.

“How did you manage to subdue my powers?”  
My question was answered with a triumphant smile, “There are spells for everything. Even to control an extraordinary specimen such as yourself.”  
The kindness that I had felt just seconds before immediately dwindled, and now I wanted to slap the smug grin off of his face. He was lying. What he had used wasn’t magic, it was sheer power that had surged through me. It hadn’t felt like a spell at all.

Something inside me stirred in affirmation, and I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible. Michael didn’t control my powers, couldn’t control them. They were hiding, deliberately, to make him believe that they were restrained.

“You must be a very powerful witch then,” I teased and he shot me a look for using that word, “What else can you do?”  
He rose from the chair and sauntered towards me, “You see, I have a talent. Call it a kind of…night-vision of the soul. I can see into the dark places that people desperately try to keep hidden.”

A talent wasn’t a power, it wasn’t a spell.

“But with you…I can only assume. I was unable to look into you, which is why I realize now that it was foolish to assume that you were looking for darkness.”  
He squatted down in front of me and put a hand on my thigh, the warmth of his skin radiating through the thin fabric of the dress, making a shiver dance down my spine. If he wasn’t such a controlling creep, I would have liked to take things elsewhere.

“I’ve learned now that you were trying to escape it, trying to escape your darkness and demons. But why bother? Why not bask in it, embrace your hunger for evilness. Stop turning the mirrors around, and look at yourself. At what you can become.”

I swallowed hard, feeling how he drew me in, with his alluring voice, with those enticing eyes that reflected the burning fire.

“I know how much you enjoyed cutting off my air. Tell me, what else do you enjoy?”  
Michael’s other hand cupped my now burning cheek and it felt like the air was crackling between us. “What else would you like to do to me?”

His words had created a needy knot in my belly that was ever so slowly wandering down between my legs. I didn’t want to give into him, I needed to win the upper hand.

“What I would like to do is cut off your filthy paws so they will no longer touch me,” I hissed and slapped his hand away from my face.  
“You’re a delight,” he crooned ecstatically and his fingers gave my thigh a gentle squeeze before he removed them and straightened. I cursed the part of myself that lamented his withdrawal.

“Now, what am I to do with this?” He produced my necklace from his pocket and dangled it around playfully, “There’s a spell on it. But one I have never encountered before. It’s almost as enigmatic as yourself.”  
“Maybe you should just give it back to me,” I suggested, my words coated with the ice that had shot into my veins to cool me off from his touch. Michael was getting under my skin, and I needed it to stop.

“I think I’d rather drop it in the fire and destroy it,” he said and grinned teasingly at me, his eyes dancing with dark humor.  
“Oh, please do. That necklace is the reason why someone came to help me,” I explained with a shrug, “Should you destroy it, this place will be swarmed with people coming to my rescue. And I doubt you’d survive them.”

Michael paused and inspected the dark, rounded pendant of the necklace that at first glance would resemble a pearl that was no bigger than a dime. The stone wasn’t completely black and opaque, as there were tiny silver speckles within it that reflected the light.  
There was no reason to tell him that my threat was merely a bluff. Nothing would happen if he destroyed the stone. Nothing, except for the destruction of my preferred exit strategy.

“It’s a bloodstone,” I declared, feeling that it was my time to be smug — and honest.

Something in his demeanor shifted as if he suddenly had been given a piece of information that changed things. “These are extremely rare,” he noted with suspicion and rolled the stone between his fingers, “Where did you get it?”

“From the person whose blood it was made from,” I explained, well-knowing that William was currently moving heaven and earth to find me.  
“I thought they were all gone?” Michael asked in disbelief.

I shook my head, “There are many of them. And they will come to retrieve me. By taking me here, you just got yourself into a world of trouble, Mr. Langdon.”  
His lips parted slightly as his arrogance and poise faltered. It wasn’t fear that flickered in his eyes. But worry.

With a smile I rose from my seat and came to stand before him, “You know what I would really like to do to you?”

My fingers reached for his throat, as I dragged a nail along his carotid artery, reveling in the fact that my touch left goosebumps on his skin. Just a man after all.

“When I’m turned, I want to sink my fangs into your neck and drink from you. Let your life force course through me as you slowly dwindle away under my touch. How does that sound?” I breathed my question against his skin.

“Ravishing,” he answered huskily, “Please, do tell me in what other ways you want to torment me.” His hands found my waist and pulled me against him so I could feel his excitement straining against his pants.

He was getting off on this!

When he started to lean in, his lust-clouded eyes lingering on my lips in anticipation, I panicked. My palm struck his cheek before I knew what I was doing. Immediately he let go of me, bewilderment written across his face when he came back to his senses. As if he hadn’t expected to react to me that way. As if he had given in to being seduced.

As he held his cheek, I shook my head at him. “You need a cold shower and a nap, Romeo.”

“You’re vicious.” Coming from him, it sounded like a compliment.  
“Well, you told me to get in touch with my darkness. I guess I just did.”

“You’re more than just a seductress. Why won’t you just tell me what you are?”  
The fact that he couldn’t read me like he could other people was pure frustration to him, that much was obvious.

“How about you keep me alive and find out?” I suggested and bit the inside of my cheek, knowing that I had bought myself enough time to steal my necklace back.  
Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearly to calm himself down. “I’ll grow on you, I promise,” I chuckled.

“The room you woke up in, is yours. All windows and doors are locked, so don’t bother trying to get out. And even if you should find a way to steal yourself away, I will know and I will find you. There’s nothing around us, for miles. Only the woods.”  
His tone held enough warning that I lifted my palms in a surrendering gesture, “I understand.”

“I will retire for tonight, as should you,” he noted coldly and put his hands behind his back, “And, Valentine. Just so you know, my patience is limited.  
He turned on his heel without awarding me with another glance and disappeared upstairs, leaving me behind with a strange sensation surging through me.

There was no doubt that he was powerful, albeit that there was no way of telling where his power came from. Not yet, anyway. I could feel in my bones, with every fiber of my body, that I was stronger than him, had been gifted differently and more generously. I was certain of it.  
And I was certain of something else: together we could have the world at our feet, with nothing but a snap of our fingers. But what I didn’t know was whether that thought scared or…excited me.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, the storm had died down and, instead, the skies appeared to have been swept clean from any clouds, giving the sun a clear cerulean playground. A soft fall breeze ruffled the colorful leaves on the trees and in the daylight, I could make out a river gurgling peacefully through the woods. Wherever I was, the climate appeared to be similar to Washington.

This place was truly picturesque, and I would have liked nothing more than to put on a cozy sweater and a pair of boots to go explore my surroundings, to breathe in the crisp air.   
With a sigh, I remembered that I couldn’t leave the house. Or, at least, wasn’t allowed to. So I peeled myself away from the tall windows unwillingly and headed into the bathroom. 

Last night I had inspected it before going back to bed and had rejoiced at finding a gigantic, freestanding bathtub that was placed at a window, allowing a beautiful view of the forest. I figured that I might as well spend some of my time here pampering myself. Especially because I wasn’t exactly keen on spending my entire day with my abductor. 

Absentmindedly I sat on the edge of the tub and waited for it to fill with warm water, while my thoughts drifted to the mysterious man that appeared to still be asleep.   
Before I had entered my room last night, I had noticed that the lights were on next door. Had noticed that there was only a single separating us. 

It wasn’t surprising that I had slept uneasily. My mind just couldn’t stir itself away from him and I kept trying to make sense of where he got his powers from. 

Over the years, I had been fortunate enough to encounter many talented witches. I knew what witchcraft felt like, knew what it looked like, and how it made the air ripple when used. And Michael’s power felt nothing like that. My power was nothing like that. 

The sense of otherworldliness that surrounded him was somber and destructive, whereas a witch felt light and healing. There was, of course, the slight possibility that, similar to me, he had been bestowed with power from someone, or something, else. 

I stored that idea away for later because, eventually, hunger drove me out of the bath. I hadn’t eaten in forever and I started to accept the fact that I would have to eat whatever food was in this house. Michael had stolen my phone, and if this place was as isolated as he claimed, there was no way that I could order a pizza anyway. 

To my dismay, the closet only offered a selection of floor-length dresses and gowns that definitely wouldn’t be part of my usual day-to-day wardrobe.   
Where Michael had gotten these dresses from and why they all looked to be the right size, was beyond me. And what alarmed me was the large amount flimsy lace lingerie that was stocked in the drawers. 

After opting for a black silk-satin dress with a waist-defining tie, I pushed the thought away that he brought other women here. Why else would he keep these clothes around?   
A small knot of jealousy curled deep in my gut, but I destroyed it by telling myself that he forced all those women to dress beautifully for him, to then kill them, and bury them deep in the woods.  
I wouldn’t be one of them. 

 

The long skirt of my dress whispered against the floor as I tiptoed into the hallway, careful to make as little noise as possible.

Although it was still early, I could hear the consistent clicking of a keyboard coming from his room, suggesting that he was awake and had a computer in there with him.  
I should try to break into his room the next chance I got. An e-mail would work just as well as my necklace. 

As I made my way downstairs, I hoped that Michael hadn’t removed the bloodstone from around my neck until we had gotten here. There was a slim chance that William could have felt me while I was unconscious, and would be able to trace me.   
But even without it, they would find me sooner or later. I was too important, too precious to give up on. 

With Michael still upstairs, I decided to explore the rest of the contemporary house. 

A wide hallway connected to the open living space and lead into a spacious kitchen that was kept in charcoal colors. The counters and appliances looked new and untouched, just like the three black stools that sat in front of a kitchen island. 

On my way, I had passed the front door but didn’t even bother to inspect whether it was truly locked or not. Opposite of it, was another door that caught my attention. 

It wasn’t made of frosted glass like the others, it was made of sturdy wood and lacquered white to match the color of the walls.   
When I tried to turn the knob, it was locked. 

Theoretically, it could lead to an office or a small guest bathroom. But why lock it?   
Michael was clearly working on his computer upstairs and he didn’t strike me as a person that would leave important documents lying around — he would keep them with him, at all times. 

When I padded towards the fridge, I tried to make a mental floor plan of the house. Whatever was waiting behind that door, it was swallowing quite a bit of space.   
Maybe it was leading into a basement. The basement where he kept all his girls. 

I shook my head at my own thoughts and told myself to lay off the crime mysteries. 

As I inspected the food, I shrugged off my curiosity and decided that I might as well just ask him what he was hiding behind the door. Worst case scenario he would get annoyed and not tell me. There wasn’t anything for me to lose. 

The kitchen was incredibly well-stocked and offered enough ingredients to cook various dishes. By the looks of it, Michael had prepared to feed an entire family. For several days.   
I could only assume that this detail implied that he was planning on keeping me here for a while. 

Warily I sniffed at what I had collected and decided that it wasn’t poisoned. After all, he was human, too. He had to eat, just like me.

 

By the time I had finished cooking, I heard steps coming down the staircase. I didn’t bother to look at him when I placed the still hot skillet under running water so it could cool off in the sink. 

“I’d say ‘good morning, sleepyhead’, but you’ve been up for quite a while,” I noted and turned around to brace my arms against the walnut countertop of the kitchen aisle. To my surprise, Michael looked at the food in utter disbelief, his ice blue eyes ignoring me completely. 

“I made enough for two,” I explained, “I figured since I won’t be eating you anytime soon, I would make breakfast.” 

He met my gaze, a frown on his handsome face. I had almost forgotten how stunning he was. Almost. 

Dressed in a black shirt, dress pants and a jacket made of deep red velvet, he looked every bit a dark prince. His beautiful hair put mine to shame, as I had only collected it in a bun to get it out of the way. 

“French toast?” he asked bewildered.   
I nodded and drizzled some powdered sugar over our breakfast, “It’s the only thing I could think of at the top of my head. And I was too lazy to check whether your bookshelves held a cookbook.” 

With curiosity, I noticed how his usually poised expression faltered and softened as if he was reminiscing. 

“It’s not poisoned. In fact, it’s delicious. I’m a decent cook,” I explained and pushed a plate towards him, surprised by the very human side of him I was suddenly presented with. 

Immediately, his facade snapped back up and he gave me that arrogant smile that I just wanted to roll my eyes at. Or drool over. Because, unfortunately, I couldn’t deny that I felt incredibly attracted to him, even if he had abducted me. 

Maybe I was beginning to get Stockholm syndrome?

With quick fingers he pushed the plate I had offered him back and pulled the one I had chosen for myself towards him. “Oh, please,” I sighed and shook my head slowly. 

“You didn’t accept the drink last night,” he said with a shrug.   
“And maybe my darkness has whispered into my ear to poison my own plate, because it knew that you would take it,” I scoffed.   
“Careful, Valentine,” he warned, wickedness shining in his eyes.   
“Just eat your breakfast.” 

Michael reached for my plate and carried it to the dinner table that was placed at the large windows, where the sun falling through the leaves sent shadows dancing across the dark wood. 

Gracefully he slid into the seat across from me and waited for me to join him. 

“Considering that this is merely a residence, it is well-prepared for visitors,” I tried to sound conversational.   
“What do you want to know?” he asked and inspected the bite of French toast that sat on his fork. 

“I want to know why you have a closet filled with ridiculously expensive women’s fashion that just sits there, untouched and unused. Am I one of many?” Instead of meeting his gaze, I pushed around some of the strawberries I had cut up. 

“I told you, I had been watching you. Maybe I was just well-prepared and had been planning on bringing you here for a while,” he answered smugly and took the first bite of his food.   
Michael’s eyes closed for a moment as he savored the taste. 

“So I’m not wearing the panties of a stranger?” I just had to know.   
A chuckle escaped him as if he were honestly amused, “No. Those panties were bought specifically for you. Everything was.”

I let go of a breath that I hadn’t realized to be holding. It was very, very good to know that I was not wearing someone else’s underwear. It was also interesting to learn that he had prepared to bring me here, had gone shopping so I would have something to wear, had stocked the closet just as well as the kitchen. 

This wouldn’t just be a short weekend getaway.

“What’s behind that door over there?” I pointed towards the locked mystery gate with my fork.   
“That’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.” His tone was cold and final and told me to shut my mouth.

I put my cutlery down and looked at him intently, “When will you finally tell me what you want with me? You told me that you’ll have fun teaching me, but so far you’ve only tried to teach me how to dress well, by withholding sweatpants and t-shirts. But I already know how to dress like an heiress. I am one, for goodness’ sake.”

When he froze, I realized my mistake. Unintentionally, I had given him the one small detail that could change things. That could expose me. 

“And just when I wanted to ask you to stop ruining this delicious breakfast with your questions, you suddenly make it all the sweeter,” he rested his hand under his chin, “Will you finally tell me what you are?” 

“And give you the one thing you want from me? Never,” I snorted. 

“Who says that that’s the only thing I want from you?” he purred, his gaze wandering to my cleavage provocatively. 

“You disgust me,” I lied, my heartbeat hammering in my chest. Michael laughed before he continued to eat his breakfast. 

“Whoever you belong to has cleaned up nicely behind themselves, by the way. I can’t find any records of you anywhere. You’re like a ghost…”  
I chose to ignore his comment and focused on my breakfast instead, well-knowing that there was no information about me anywhere. 

We finished eating in silence, and I shot him a look when I cleared the dishes from the table, “Don’t get used to this. I’ll think twice before cooking anything for you from now on.” 

Michael ignored my snarky comment and rose from the table. While I placed the dishes in the sink, I saw something that gave me an idea, something that could maybe enlighten me.   
Just because I was still human, didn’t mean that I had never had a taste of what was to come. 

When I turned around, he was casually smoothing over his jacket and started picking invisible lint from it, completely unaware of my movements. 

“Or is this why you brought me here? To play house? An enigmatic woman that might just be good enough for you to keep around?” Michael met my gaze and clearly waited for me to go on. 

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” I asked and slowly started to step around the kitchen island. He pulled up an eyebrow in surprise, following my every move until I came to stand before him. 

Unfazed, he observed how I let my fingers run over the lapel of his jacket, until they ghosted further up, towards his neck. His eyes found mine as my finger traced the spot where I had touched him the night before, and when his lips parted slightly, I knew that I got him exactly where I wanted. 

“I thought I disgusted you,” he noted in an attempt to sound aloof.   
“Well, maybe I just changed my mind. Maybe I want to give in to the darkness. Want to give in…to you.” I wetted my lips, looking up at him through my lashes.

Then, with the velocity of a snake, I reached for the knife I had hidden in my dress and ran the blade over his skin.   
Not to kill him, but to draw blood.   
When it started to seep out of the shallow wound, I let my weapon clatter to the floor. Determined, I gripped his jacket and pulled myself close to him. 

A gasp escaped his mouth when my tongue ran over his warm skin, greedily licking his blood.   
His sweet life force washed over my taste buds and I savored the power that was rushing through it. A power that, indeed, had been bestowed upon him. From something dark and evil that craved nothing but havoc and domination.

Intoxicated from his taste, I broke away from him and hungrily gulped down air to regain focus.   
When I met his eyes, they were filled with wonder, surprise, and the same lust I had seen in them last night. 

Before I could stop him, he pulled me close again and held me firmly with one arm as his thumb traced my bottom lip lazily, wiping off his own blood. His touch was territorial and the way he looked at my lips made heat pound between my legs instantaneously. 

Michael leaned in and brushed his lips against mine.   
His kiss was gentle and tentative at first, but when my fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his silky hair, he deepened it.   
Drunk on his blood, I decided to ignore the warning bells that went off in my head as he kissed me fiercely. I wanted to relish this moment. Wanted to relish him. Wanted to do everything with him. 

Eventually, Michael withdrew and for once the smug smile was gone from his face.   
“Please,” he started breathlessly, “Please, tell me what you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to leave hell, or purgatory, or whatever this is for a few days because I have a paper due on Monday. I’ll finish up the next chapter as soon as I can though. Hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

The kiss had been wrong. The kiss had been a larger misstep than giving away that I was someone’s successor. 

But most importantly, when I had tasted his power on my tongue, my own had peeked out of its hiding place, and it had willingly interlaced with his. Even if it had only been for a small moment, it had felt intuitive…and welcoming.   
Like former lovers that had finally found their way back to one another. 

“Get away from me.” My voice was barely more than a whisper.   
“Valentine,” he breathed as his hold on me loosened, but didn’t let go. 

“I said get away from me,” I repeated with tears burning in my eyes. Forcefully, I jerked myself away.

His eyebrows nudged together, “What are you afraid of?” 

Every fiber of my body tensed, overwhelmed by the sudden, forceful return of my powers. I wasn’t afraid of him. Wasn’t even afraid of what his blood had made me feel.   
I was afraid of myself. 

“I need to get out,” I pleaded as panic tightened my chest.   
“There is nowhere for you to go,” he reminded me calmly and held out a hand in a helpless gesture, unsure of what he should do. 

“I swear, if you don’t let me out of here, I will burn this house to cinders. With you and me in it.”   
Something in my eyes must have told him that I was serious because I heard the door unlocking behind me. 

“If you run away, I will find you,” he warned me.   
“Just shut up. For once, shut up.” 

Even though I was barefoot, I stormed out of the house, desperate to get away. Desperate for release. This could get very ugly, very quickly.

My beautiful dress got caught in the undergrowth repeatedly, its fabric straining and tearing as I went. It slowed me down considerably as I sprinted towards the river I had seen from my bedroom window. 

Although the cold, crisp air washed over me like a soothing blanket, it felt like I was about to combust. This was worse than when my powers had awoken a few years ago, and I knew that I needed to subdue myself. 

Finally, I reached the riverside and took a deep breath to brace myself against the cold water. The soles of my feet burned from the cuts I had gotten on my way here. Impatiently, I waded into the current, savoring the freezing sensation that bit into me like millions of needles, until my feet could no longer reach the bottom.

Ever so slowly, I felt how my body stilled. How my power calmed. It stopped strangling me, the truculence dwindling away along with the flowing water.

But the river was deeper than I had anticipated and I felt how my dress pulled me down, too heavy with its drink.   
When I wanted to struggle against the pull, my muscles cramped and left me helpless as my head was dragged under the surface.   
I wasn’t even able to get back up for a last breath as my limbs surrendered, and the cold water finally flooded my lungs. 

This wouldn’t just subdue my powers. It would kill them. And myself. 

I reached for my power, begged for it to submit to my will as it usually did, but it was silent. Frozen and petrified from being tossed around erratically.   
It felt ironical that this would be my end. The end of the girl with a strong affinity for water. After all, it had been the first element I had learned to master. But now it was smothering me, pulling me down like a stone. 

Right before my senses fell silent, strong hands grabbed me and pulled me to the riverside as the same power invaded my body that I had experienced the night Michael had taken me.   
Like a serpent, it slowly crept through me. However, it didn’t wrap around my mind this time — it wrapped around my lungs, and pumped them hard. 

After I had coughed up all the water that had found its way into my lungs, I felt his power stroking my own. It was soft and brushed against it affectionately, tickling it awake.  
Like dancers, they started to circle one another, weaving in and out of each other, in mutual admiration. The sensation made me dizzy. 

Did Michael feel how we connected? Could he? Did he wake my power purposely?

Stars were dancing before my eyes when I opened them, barely able to make out Michael who was kneeling beside me at the riverside, his clothing soaked and sticking to his body. Even his luscious locks were in disarray and plastered against his head. 

At first, his eyes looked completely black, but by the time I had blinked to clear my vision, they were back to their tantalizing blue.   
The moment his eyes changed color, his power vanished and left mine behind, craving for it to come back. To come play. 

“You saved me,” I rasped. For the first time, I was grateful for his presence and for the hand that was still on my body, sitting on my chest as if it hadn’t only been his power that had pumped my lungs. 

His lips were pressed into a hard line as he looked down on me with disapproval, “I will not let you go before I know what you are.”   
“What a way to ruin the moment,” I noted drily.

“Your power…it was never gone.” The look he shot me was threatening to give me frostbite.   
“I never said it was. You subdued it. For a moment, that is. That moment passed a while ago.” 

“And my blood?”   
“Made it boil over,” I simplified it, deliberately keeping out the fact that other parts of me had boiled over as well. Were still boiling, even after being dragged down, into the cold. 

For a moment, we just stared at each other. He was trying to make sense of it as much as me, which meant that he felt it, too. How…compatible we were. 

“You need a hot bath. And rest.” He didn’t suggest, he commanded. His tone made me grateful that I wasn’t standing because, otherwise, it would have made my knees weak. 

My eyes lingered on his lips, those lips that had felt so wonderfully against mine, and which were now blue from the cold, “So do you.”  
“Just shut up. For once, shut up,” he mocked my words from earlier. 

Michael didn’t give me the chance to stand up but instead scooped me up in his arms. He pressed me against his body as he carried me back into the house with brisk steps. With ease he brought me upstairs where he put me straight into the bathtub. 

“No undressing me this time?” I checked with an arched eyebrow when he turned on the water which felt too warm against my frozen skin. Secretly I wanted him to get in with me.   
He ignored my saucy comment, more annoyed with me than he had ever been before. 

“I didn’t plan on it, you know,” I tried to sound apologetical. He had saved me after all.   
“I know. You appear to plan nothing at all. And I don’t like unpredictability unless I’m responsible for it.” 

“You’re such a fucking diva,” I snorted.   
“Take a look in the mirror before saying that to me,” he spat back and turned to leave the room.   
“Thank you,” I hurried to say, “Thank you for saving my life.” Michael sighed through his nose and looked at me over his shoulder, “Don’t get used to it.”   
Without another word, he closed the door behind himself. 

Tensely I waited to hear any noise from next door; his steps against the concrete floor, the water being turned on. Anything.   
But nothing happened. Because he wasn’t in there. He had gone somewhere else. 

A part of me knew that he used this time to get something in order that needed to be fixed — whatever it would be. Ideally, I could sneak after him and find out what he was up to, but realistically I knew better. My power was still too fickle so I didn’t dare use it to warm myself up. 

While I peeled myself out of my dress, and slowly started to warm up, I felt that something in me just wouldn’t subside. There was something that the icy water had been unable to wash away, and, truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I wanted it gone. 

In my mind, I replayed the kiss, the way he had held me. The way his body had felt against mine.   
I wanted more, needed more. 

A rational voice in my head warned me: I didn’t know what he wanted with me, didn’t know why he kept track of me back in Seattle. It told me I should tread carefully and not give in to my carnal desire, to stand my ground, to wait. For William. 

I took the time in the bathtub to really consider my options and the moment my temperature had normalized, I climbed out of the tub, completely impatient and beyond any reason whatsoever.   
I didn’t pay attention to the underwear I pulled out of the dresser, didn’t pay attention to the silky wrap dress that I put on. I just knew that I needed to be quick. 

To my relief, Michael’s door wasn’t locked but slid away smoothly.   
The room was as sparse as my own, with the only difference being that a desk stood at the window. His bed was made neatly and with a grimace I considered whether he had OCD. Nothing in here seemed out of place and nothing presented itself as a good hiding place for my bloodstone or phone. 

But that wasn’t important. 

Smack in the middle of the desk, Michael’s computer sat. If I was lucky, he hadn’t turned it off this morning.   
With shaky fingers, I opened it and waited for the screen to light up. I groaned when the screen asked me to enter a password. Nothing in this room told me anything about him and it wasn’t like we had discussed the name of his first pet yet, so I quickly gave up on breaking into his computer. 

The voice of reason from before told me to look through his closet — and I followed suit. With swift fingers, I dug through the drawers, searched every pocket, but came up empty-handed.   
A part of me was disappointed that my assumptions had been right. He wouldn’t leave anything behind. 

Disillusioned, I folded my arms in front of my body and let my gaze wander through the room one last time. My eyes rested on his bed for a moment, on the inviting pillows.   
He had slept there last night, so close to me, and the thought involuntarily lead somewhere else. What if the wall hadn’t been between us?

I had tried to overcome it. Had tried to shove my imagination far away. Had forced myself to ignore the memory of his touch. But I was failing piteously. 

Before I could reconsider, I left the room, determined to find him. I needed to stay focused. I needed to get out of here before I would cave in. 

On my way down the stairs, I scanned the room. Everything was untouched and deserted, not hinting at where he had gone. Maybe he had left?   
Disappointed, I realized that the front door was locked, and the forest looked undisturbed and calm. I leaned against the glass and let myself sink down to the floor, absentmindedly staring into nothingness. 

No. Not nothingness. 

My brows nudged together and I cocked my head to the side when I noticed that the mysterious door opposite of me wasn’t closed properly. It was ajar and the faintest of light appeared to be burning behind it. 

Something within me, something in my bones told me to stay where I was. Whatever was behind that door wasn’t for my eyes to see. And yet, I felt myself scrambling to my feet and padding towards it. My hand rested against the wood for a moment and I felt that well-known tingle of nervous anticipation.   
A cold breeze floated against me as I was greeted by the dimly lit, cavernous hallway. Except for some small, warm-toned lamps, the walls were bare, and eventually, the hallway appeared to end in a staircase that led somewhere beneath the house. 

Maybe this was a dungeon after all.

With every step I took towards the staircase, my power awoke and stirred. It pushed me further and further until I found myself looking into the looming darkness that stretched beyond the limits of my sight. 

The walls around me swallowed the sound of my feet against the slightly winding stairs as I climbed down, down, down. 

This place felt similar to the power that surged through Michael. Dark, besetting, and cataclysmic. If it wasn’t for the beast within me, I would have absconded already. 

A faint, flickering light eventually announced the foot of the stairs. My heart was pounding in my ears when I stepped into it and beheld what was stretched out before me. 

It wasn’t a dungeon and it wasn’t just a basement. Before me was a vast, pentagonal shaped room that was lit by hundreds of candles that were placed throughout it. The moonstone floor reflected the light that licked its way up the tall walls. 

My breath caught in my throat, when I saw Michael on his knees, in the middle of the room. He was stark naked, bent forward, and blood trickled out of deep gashes along his arms. Underneath him, I could make out the pentagram that had been smeared on the floor. 

I wasn’t so foolish to believe that he was in danger. This was a ritual. A ritual he had initiated himself. 

Although I had never seen anything quite like it, I knew that this wasn’t a simple ritual for purification or protection. It was evoking a darkness that I would never have anticipated. My power, however, hummed ecstatically in pure anticipation and recognition.

Never in my wildest imaginations would I have believed that he was the vessel of something so ancient.   
But it made sense. It explained why he was so interested in provoking my own darkness and why my power wanted to play with his. She had always had a fondness for menace.   
And that night in the alley…it had been the devil shining in his eyes. I knew that now, I understood. 

“You’re…the antichrist,” I breathed as the realization hit me. 

Michael sat up and took a deep breath before he opened his black eyes, “Didn’t I tell you to not concern yourself with what was behind this door?” 

The beast within me nudged me towards him, taking one step after the other until I stood at the edge of the pentagram. “You should have locked the door behind yourself.”   
A dark chuckle escaped him and I saw how the wounds on his arm healed themselves. 

Gracefully he rose and when he met my eyes, it was him looking at me. And not Satan.   
“Come,” he said and held a hand out to me, inviting me to step onto the symbol. 

Without hesitation, I took his hand and when my naked feet touched his blood, the candles around us flared up. I allowed myself to breathe him in, his impressive naked body that was smeared with his own blood. The blood that had made me feel so many things. 

“Now you know who I am. It is only fair if you reveal yourself,” he noted as his fingers interlaced with mine, as our power intertwined, “I know you. But I don’t know who you are.” 

“I…,” my words failed me when his free hand pulled at the string of the bow that kept my dress secure around my waist.   
“You…?” he purred and let the fabric fall away to the sides. I bit my lip at his hungry gaze wandering over my half-naked body. 

“I am the descendant of someone much older than you,” I breathed and allowed him to shuffle the dress off me, allowed him to let his fingertips ghost over my skin.   
“Mhm, go on.”

As I stood before him, almost completely exposed, I felt that there was no need to withhold it from him anymore, not with our mutual awareness. Not with both our powers urging us to unite.   
“I am the descendant and embodiment of Hecate, goddess of magic, the night, the moon, and necromancy.”


	5. Chapter 5

For a moment, everything around us stilled. It was like the world held its breath, waiting tensely for what the fallen angel and the goddess would do next. Because this union could either be prosperous or end in utter catastrophe.

When my words had registered with him, he had frozen, with his eyes glued to mine in utter disbelief. Finally, he drew in a breath and brought his lips to my ear, “I knew there was a reason why I met you. Why he opened my eyes to you.”  
I knew that he meant the devil, he didn’t have to say it.

But why was I here? What would this union do for me?

My back arched slightly when his fingers resumed wandering over my skin, caressing me lazily.  
“Why did you come down here? What pushed you?” he purred and sent a shiver down my spine.  
“Your blood,” I grabbed his hands to stop them on their way down south, “Your blood is still singing in my veins.”  
“Fascinating.” He looked at me appreciatively as I stood before him in the flimsy lingerie that he had picked out for me, “What does that mean?”

“It’s telling me to let go of your hands,” I admitted breathlessly.  
“And?” he persisted.  
“It wants me to succumb to you. I’m drunk on how it makes me feel. On how you make me feel.” My grasp around his hands tightened.

Michael tilted his head predatorily and devoured me with his eyes, “How do I make you feel?”  
Heat pounded between my legs, the feeling from earlier washing over me violently, making every fiber in my body yearn for his touch.  
“Like I’m on fire,” I whispered and felt my fingers loosening.

“I can make you feel so much more. But you have to let me.”  
The promise that laced his words made me open my hands and they fell to my side in a wordless surrender, “Here?”

Michael leaned forward and kissed me tenderly. “Right here,” he breathed onto my lips.  
This place, the fact that he would have me here, on his father’s grounds and for his eyes to see, was nothing but a demonstration of power, of territorial ownership. But for now, I would ignore that, would only savor his touch against my heated skin.  
Instinctively, I put my arms around his neck, beckoning him to take me as I pulled him into a desirous kiss. I didn’t want to hold back any longer, I couldn’t.

The blood that was covering most of his body smeared onto my skin with every touch, marking me, claiming me, making me his.  
With idle fingers, he traced the edge of the lace bra and pulled at the band so it snapped against my skin. A small yelp escaped me.

“Take it off,” he ordered and took a small step back, so he could watch me.  
I reached behind my back for the clasp, desperate to get the scraps of fabric off of me.  
“Slowly,” a taunting smile spread on his face as he commanded me, “I’m not in a hurry.”  
“Why do you get to make all the rules?” I demanded but complied to his request.  
“Because it is so much more fun this way,” he said matter-of-factly.

As I stripped before him, he started touching his considerable length, well-knowing that I wanted every inch of him inside of me. My mouth went dry at the sight of him.

“Lie down.” His usually controlled, cold voice was hoarse from his own excitement.  
It felt like the pentagram burned through me as it touched my back, as more of Michael’s blood covered my body.

Smoothly he kneeled before me as his hungry gaze wandered over every inch of me. Without another command, he pushed my legs apart so he could move between them, hovering over me and driving me insane with anticipation.  
“I will take my time with you,” he warned and his lips found mine before I could interject.  
Michael’s kisses trailed down to my neck, where he dragged his teeth over the spot that corresponded with where I had cut him earlier. A needy moan fell over my lips as a hand cupped my breast and I instinctively leaned into his touch, urging him to go on.

With an agonizingly slow pace, his lips continued on their way down, finding my breast to let his tongue flick over my nipple. He chuckled against my skin as my fingers buried themselves in his beautiful locks, desperate for any form of support.

I groaned as his lips and tongue continued their work while his hand caressed my other breast. Every touch, every bite, was placed deliberately and drove me insane. “Please,” I begged.  
“Please, what?” he demanded, stopped completely, and eluded my touch which left his hair in perfect disarray.

“Please, I need…,” I gasped, unable to form any correlate sentence.  
“I know exactly what you need. I may not be able to look into your soul but your body tells me everything I need to know.” His mouth found mine but before he could deepen the kiss he jolted away from me.

“You wicked thing,” he laughed, “Burning me will not give you what you want any faster.”  
“I figured it was worth a try,” I said breathlessly and retreated my power, relaxing against the smooth floor in this small reprieve.

Michael’s ice blue eyes glistened diabolically as he ever so slowly let his fingers dance over my skin. Further down, further down, drawing idle circles as he went. Finally, his hands moved between my thighs and a self-satisfied smirk appeared on his beautiful lips at the wetness he found there, waiting for him.

Slowly he started to stroke me, his gaze fixed on me and my frenzied yearning as my body reacted to his, winding itself to get closer to him. When he slipped a finger inside me, I moaned, silently begging for him to go on.

Michael’s hair cascaded over me when his lips started to move over my body, wandering dangerously close to where I wanted them. “Lie still,” he warned and plunged another finger into me, stretching me and getting me ready for what was to come.

Stars started dancing before my eyes at the first lick of his tongue. While he feasted on me, his fingers started up a merciless rhythm, pumping in and out of me. He was no longer holding back, he was giving me what I so desperately needed. It wasn’t long until my release shattered through my body and I cried out his name, the sound echoing off the walls.

Michael kept me pinned down with a strong hand as waves of ecstasy washed over me.  
“Was this satisfactory?” he asked in a way that didn’t expect any confirmation.  
“You’re a conceited ass,” I rasped, propping myself up on my elbows as every muscle still hummed with pleasure.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he announced, his eyes looking over my naked body that was covered with his blood and the pentagram beneath it that I had undoubtedly smudged whilst twisting under his touch.

The moment my breath had steadied, he came over me, pinning my wrists against the floor, “You’re not so powerful now, goddess of the night.” His words weren’t derisive but playful. I doubted that he had ever been with an equal, let alone someone superior to him. This must be completely new for him and gave him a kind of affirmation he had never felt before.

“Let’s play,” I suggested and was rewarded with a long, sensual kiss that sent heat surging through my body. “Give me the knife,” I nodded towards the blade he had cut himself with during his ritual.  
“Why?” he asked perplexed.  
“Your blood is singing in my veins, isn’t it only fair if mine gets to serenade you, too? Don’t you want to feel the fire caressing you from within, my fire? You’ve asked me so many times what I am, why not experience it for yourself?”

Michael didn’t need any more convincing but pulled back and reached for the sharp blade. I pushed myself up to sit next to him and held out my palm in an unspoken invitation.  
“You trust me that much? After a single day?” he arched an eyebrow, “After I have abducted you?”  
“Like you said, you know me. I’d like to believe I know you, too.”  
Michael reached for my hand and placed a tender kiss on my palm before letting the knife cut into my skin. I winced at the small pain, “Taste me.” And he did.

The flames around us blazed up as he licked the wound and I tipped my head back when our powers intertwined. In this moment, I was closer to him than I had ever thought possible.  
“Exquisite,” he said and placed a kiss on the wound before it closed at our will. He dragged a hand through his hair and got blood into his wheat blonde strands whilst clearly getting used to feeling my essence running through him.

“The feeling will pass eventually,” I promised, “But until then…why don’t you let me show you what I can make you feel.”  
Without another word, he pulled me close to him, “No. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

He was desperate to stay in control.

As our lips met he pushed me back down onto the pentagram where he nudged my legs apart again and gripped my hips. With a single stroke, he thrusted into me, deep, his hands holding me against him firmly. I moaned as I adjusted to the feeling of him inside of me, as I relished every inch of him.

When Michael felt me relax he started to move, torturously slow at first. But when his grip on my hips tightened, his thrusts got rougher and deeper, and I knew that I wouldn’t last long. He settled into a merciless rhythm and I savored every place we touched.  
I didn’t have to beg him to finish me because he could read my body like an open book. Without having to ask for it, one of his hands found the bundle of nerves between my legs and he started stroking me.

Michael’s dexterity and fierce pace had me falling apart in seconds, and I went over the edge with a groan. Hearing his name as it fell from my lips was his own undoing and he slammed into me deeply, finding his own release. Power rippled off of him, like dark waves that washed over me. My arms wrapped around him when he collapsed on top of me, both of us catching our breaths.

After a moment, he pressed a kiss onto my neck before he pulled away and straightened.  
“Come,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady when he helped me up, “You’re filthy.”  
“So are you,” I noted and licked some blood off a finger. Michael’s lips parted slightly, temptation flickering in his eyes all over again. Apparently, my blood sang to him authoritatively and it made a smirk spread on my face.

“Would you like to wash me up?” I teased.  
Instead of answering me, he pulled me close to him and the next moment we were in a bathroom upstairs — his bathroom.  
“Nicely done,” I complimented with an arched eyebrow and reached into the spacious glass shower to turn on the water.

In the soft sunlight that fell through the window, his blood shimmered like millions of rubies. The candlelight hadn’t done him any justice, had hidden the fact that he was deliciously toned. But now, although wrapped in crimson, it was my turn to devour the sight of him, to lust over him.

I stepped under the water, grateful that it was still fairly cold, and observed the blood running down the drain. What exactly had I gotten myself into?

“Join me?” I asked, my goosebumps slowly fading as the water reached a more agreeable temperature. But Michael didn’t budge, he just stared at me.

“Come on now, you’re making a mess,” I held out my hand and felt for our power that was still merged, wound together in a strong bond that would take a while to unravel. Not that I wanted it to. In fact, his power complimented my own in a way I had never experienced before and it gave me an odd sense of reassurance.

“You’re a goddess,” he stated and his throat bobbed.  
“Yes, well…,” I shrugged, unsure what he was aiming at.  
Michael took a cautious step towards me, “What would it take to win your goodwill? What would it take…for you to grant me victory in battle?”

Suddenly, I felt exposed and uncertain. This was no longer about our bond, about us being drunk on one another. He would tell me why I was here, he would show his hand. He would tell me what he needed from me.  
Slowly I started to realize that my flirtation with danger, darkness, and death had never been over.

In fact, it had only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inevitable and there’s no going back from here. Hey Satan, are you ready for me yet? Because if I’m not going to hell for this, I don’t know what the heck you’re doing down there...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about having left you all waiting for a whole week! I’m already working on the new chapter and should be able to post it soon(ish)! Thanks for sticking with my story, hope you enjoy! :)

I didn’t answer him at first but just stood there, overwhelmed while Michael looked at me expectantly.

“I don’t like to mix business with pleasure, so why don’t we have this conversation some other time,” I suggested and overplayed the fact that I wasn’t comfortable enough to discuss future arrangements with him just yet — let alone to actually make any. Michael clenched his teeth in disappointment.

“That wasn’t a no, in case you missed it,” I added drily and folded my arms in front of my body. “It wasn’t a yes either,” he noted and sounded like a stubborn child.  
“I said yes to something else,” I reminded him, “But apparently you need a cavernous temple to be in the mood. Shame.” Hoping that my words would strike a nerve, I deliberately turned away from him and stared into the glossy tiles as I started to wash myself.

With my head under the water, I didn’t hear his steps when he joined me. Instead, I felt the warmth radiating from him when he came to stand behind me.

“Say that again,” he hissed into my ear, his lips brushing against my earlobe.  
“Careful, you might lose whatever goodwill you may have earned for yourself when you seduced me with your blood,” I teased with a chuckle and tried to ignore how even this small touch made my body ache for him.  
I felt his fingertips dancing down my spine in a ghost of a touch and I wanted nothing more than to lean into him, to answer his touch and silent invitation.

“My blood may have driven you to me,” he swiped my hair over my shoulder to place a tender kiss on the nape of my neck, “But I know that there was something else about me that seduced you.”  
“And what would that be, exactly?” I bit my lip when his arms snaked around my waist and pulled me against him, his excitement pressing against my backside. His hand slithered up to my neck and I instinctively tipped my head back. Excitement started to flutter in my belly as there was no doubt where this was going.

“The danger radiating off of me.” He kissed my neck. “The forbiddance.” Another kiss. “The temptation.” And another. “My power.”

“Not to mention your modesty,” I bantered but silently added his ridiculous good looks. Michael immediately punished me when his hands found my breasts, pinching my nipples. At least physically we spoke the same language. I groaned at his tantalizing touch.

“Is this what you want?” he taunted me and slowly let his fingers trail over my body.  
“Yes,” I breathed, grateful that he was holding me up as my knees were buckling.  
“Remember just how good I make you feel,” he said and turned me around to back me up against the wall. His lips crashed against mine, his kiss filled with a hunger that mirrored my own.

Michael’s hands cupped my behind and I hooked my legs around him when he lifted me up, pinning me between him and the cold tiles. He eased into me, the sensation just as exhilarating as before, and then started to have me against the wall as my fingers curled into his wet hair.  
Our bodies, powers, and movements were in perfect union which made us both fall apart quickly. Panting, we held on to each other, only slowly recovering from our lust.

“You still have blood in your hair,” I chuckled and tugged at a strand playfully when he deemed me strong enough to stand on my own legs, “What else is on the agenda for today? Now that we’ve covered rituals and shower sex…”

I knew I shouldn’t have asked when he gave me a knowing look. Business proposals. Right.

We finished washing up in silence and afterwards Michael sent me into my room to get dressed. For a moment, I remained wrapped in the fluffy robe and just sat on the bed, contemplating what I would tell him. What I could tell him.

A knock on the glass door made me look up. Apparently, I was taking too long.  
“Yes?” I got up and reached for an airy silk-chiffon dress before I shrugged off the robe. There was no need for me to get dressed in privacy. Not anymore.

Michael strode into the room, dressed in his usual princely attire that still made me wonder if he was sweeping me away to a midnight ball at any given moment. I didn’t even bother to ask how he got his luscious locks to look this perfect so shortly after having left the shower — maybe Satan was a superb hairstylist at heart?

With curiosity, he observed me slipping into the dress, immobile and silent.  
“We should maybe have something to eat,” he suggested and gestured towards the door. Considering that he had just given me three mind-blowing orgasms, he was oddly formal. I looked at him with a frown. “You almost drowned today,” he added as if that would explain his odd demeanor.

While he guided me into the kitchen, I thought of a new exit strategy. Yes, he was incredibly alluring and yes, I wanted him all over me, but I also needed to think about the world that waited for me outside. And that world would not welcome the Antichrist. Not even as my consort.

Consort! I couldn’t believe to be thinking in those reigns when he had abducted me only yesterday.

“Did you hear anything of what I just said?” Michael’s voice made me snap out of my thoughts.  
“Obviously not,” I admitted and took the mug of tea he offered me.  
He rolled his eyes in annoyance, “I have a proposal for you.” His features were set in stone as he waited for me to react.

“If it’s your hand in marriage, I politely decline. I never imagined my trophy husband to have a pulse,” I said and smirked over the edge of my cup, finding myself very funny.  
“I didn’t know that this kind of union was up for discussion,” he noted with bemusement, “But I find it fascinating that you apparently were thinking of it.”

He had caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.  
“It shouldn’t surprise you. Our powers have already eloped, in case you missed it,” I retorted with a small shrug, pleased with how I had diverted the thought.

“I didn’t miss it. In fact, it was why I suggested that I introduce you to some witches and warlocks,” he rested his hand under his chin, waiting for my response with anticipation dancing in his eyes.  
I straightened, “Witches and warlocks?”

“Yes. They attempted to teach me some parlor tricks at the Hawthorne Academy for Exceptional Young Men,” he waved dismissively when he said the name, “I haven’t been there in a while and I believe that it is time for me to pay them a visit.”

“And how exactly would that visit benefit me?” I demanded. “It would give you a chance to behold your subjects, you are the goddess of witchcraft after all.”

“They’re not my subjects,” I clarified and shook my head, “Why do you want these people to meet me? To see us together? To sense our bond?” Michael’s eyes flickered away from me. “Why do you want to show me around like a shiny new toy? How is this a fair proposal?”

“They are in my way,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

“So you want me to get rid of them? Strip them of their powers? For what? Why should I help you?” I knew that there was something he was keeping from me, some part of his plan that he was withholding on purpose. “This is not how you win my goodwill, Michael.”

He sighed through his nose and clenched his fists, “I am their alpha, their next supreme. But the current supreme, Cordelia Goode, questions me and my powers.”  
Probably because his powers weren’t exactly comparable to their own. Why did he want to be their supreme when he was clearly something else? Something more?  
“I doubt that you’re telling me all I need to know,” I pursed my lips, “But should this truly be about securing your rightful spot within the witchcraft community, then I am willing to help you.”

Michael relaxed noticeably. “I just don’t understand why you would call that a battle,” I added, putting enough warning into my voice. If he truly wanted my help, my goodwill, then he needed to be honest with me. But I decided to give him some time to reveal his entire plan. And the benefit of the doubt.

“What do you want in return?” he demanded and looked at me intently.

“Are we friends?” I checked, a small smile tugging at my lips.  
“Excuse me?” His eyebrows nudged together in confusion.  
“You and me, are we friends now?” I clarified, “Because I believe in helping my friends without asking anything in return.” Michael let go of a breath and nodded reluctantly.

“Well, just so you know, friends don’t lock friends inside a house. And they don’t steal each other’s belongings,” I held out my palm expectantly, “It’s time for you to give me back my bloodstone.”

“Do you want him to find you?” Michael folded his hands behind his back and I felt how he used his powers without as much as blinking.  
I immediately shook my head, “No. But I want you to trust me like I trusted you with the knife. I’m not going to run, I promise to support your cause and to come with you.”

“I… Thank you,” he finally said and dropped the pendant in my hand. The stone felt warm in my hand as if it had been somewhere close to him the entire time. There was, of course, the slight possibility that William had felt Michael’s turbulent and dark presence instead of my own. Maybe he already knew where I was…and with whom.

“You should let me contact my people. They need to know that I am safe and here out of my own free will,” I suggested and slid the necklace into the pocket of my dress.  
“They will know where you are the moment we visit Hawthorne tomorrow,” Michael retorted and lifted his chin, indicating that his people would blow the whistle on us.

I toyed with the necklace in my pocket, “Remember when you searched several records for a mention of my name? And how you kept pressing me to tell you what I am? Do you honestly believe that anyone at that school will be able to tell who I am? Who I belong to?”

“Who do you belong to?” He reached out and tugged a strand of hair behind my ear, a spontaneous yet intimate action that made my heart flutter in my chest.  
Would he ever belong to me?  
“I thought you knew,” I evaded his question, “Why do you think I was given that necklace?” His fingertips brushed against my jaw while his eyes were glued to my lips which parted slightly at his tender touch.

“Out of…love?” Michael tasted the word on his tongue as if he had never used it before or fully understood its meaning. As if it was a concept he was yet to fully experience.

My thoughts slid to William. He hadn’t given me the necklace out of love, not initially anyway. At some point, I had thought that I was in love with him, that he would be the person to carry me through the change within me and through my later transition.  
But I had been wrong. I wasn’t in love with William, I was in love with the idea of him, obsessed with how our story would be one of star-crossed lovers — a love so impossible that it was worth writing stories about. And William, he loved me. Sometimes as a lover, but mostly as a very close, reliable, and protective friend.

“William doesn’t love me like that,” I explained with a shrug, “and Clémence doesn’t either. But they care about me and want to protect me. They’re my…family.”  
Michael cocked his head to the side as his eyes found mine, “Family?”

“I don’t know my real mother or father and have barely any recollection of my early childhood. When I was six years old, Gaia found me. She was the one who brought me up and who introduced me to Clémence when the time was right. You’ll meet them all soon enough.”

I knew better than to ask him about his upbringing. The way he had reacted to hearing the words ‘love’ and ‘family’ told me enough. He would share when he was ready. If he ever was ready. After all, he had found another father in the meantime.

“Now,” I took a deep breath and put my hands on my hips, “Does the Antichrist know how to cook? Or do I need to break out my inner domestic diva yet again?”  
Michael chuckled and it seemed like a heaviness had been lifted from his chest, “Please, do so.”  
“Okay,” I turned towards the fridge but looked over my shoulder before I started to collect some ingredients, “but you’re in charge of dessert.”  
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he promised with a wicked grin.


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn’t exactly surprising that dessert had turned out to be me. Before I knew it, I was sprawled out on Michael’s bed, naked, with him feasting on me and it wasn’t until darkness reigned that we eventually fell into a deep slumber, exhausted from our own desire. Whereas last night we had been separated by a wall, I was now wrapped in his arms, pressed closely against his body. We were still intertwined, connected, and rested in each other’s presence.   
When the sun’s rays finally tickled me awake the next morning, Michael still slept peacefully. His breathing was deep and even. Selfishly, I didn’t want this moment to pass, didn’t want to escape this weird bubble we were in. 

And yet, I was too curious to meet some of the people that had once been a part of Michael’s life. Hopefully, they would tell me more about him — any intel whatsoever would help me make sense of this beautiful, mysterious man.

Although I had pushed both the feeling and thought into a deep corner of my mind, I knew that he deliberately kept something from me. Whatever it was, it would probably change not only my perception of him but also my willingness to help him. He was the Antichrist after all. Things would get messy eventually. 

Yes, my power recognized his, felt comfortable around him, and wanted nothing more than to play. However, my power was both light and dark, healing and harmful, benevolent and cruel. Michael’s was mostly cataclysmic and malevolent, all his compassion, generosity, and warmth seemed suffocated by the evilness that dominated his power. 

What worried me was that he had accepted it, he had made the decision to permit this change within him, without looking back. Somewhere, deep inside of him, he was capable of doing great things. And not all of them would have to be evil. The Antichrist could have a conscience, couldn’t he?

Michael tightened his hold around me when I let out a sigh and closed my fingers around his wrist, ever so slowly waking him up at my touch. “You sleep like the dead,” I mumbled and pressed a tender kiss onto his hand. He kissed the top of my head in answer, “As do you.” 

“When do you want to leave?” I asked, silently hoping that he would say tomorrow. His fingers drew idle circles on my skin, “Soon. There is a lot to talk about.”   
A feeling of unease curled deep inside my gut at his tone. Suddenly, his voice was cold again and whatever gentleness he had shown me the day before appeared gone, “You should get ready.”

Smoothly, he pulled away and with a frown I watched him disappear into the bathroom without another word. Although I was confused by his dismissal, I decided to go to my room and pick out a dress for today’s undertaking. For the first time, I would choose with consideration. Not only did I have to present myself adequately, but there was also the prospect of Michael undressing me. Or at least that was what I silently hoped for if he would loosen up again. 

Just while I was fastening the buttons of the delicate black silk organza gown, Michael knocked on the door. “Is this satisfactory?” I demanded and smoothed over the floor-sweeping skirt. He only nodded and held out his hand to me. “How do we get there, exactly?” I asked and interlaced my fingers with his. “I’m able to transport us out of the forest. We will have to take a car from there,” he explained. A car? How mundane. Was this how he had gotten me here?

A smile played on my lips, “We don’t have to take a car. If I let you access my power we are able to get wherever we want in the blink of an eye. Think of it as stepping through a door that is hidden between this place, and where we are going.” 

“You’re willing to let me access your power?” he arched an eyebrow in surprise.   
“I’ll kick you out before you know it, don’t worry,” I took his other arm and placed it on my waist, urging him to pull me close, “Now, feel for our bond, imagine it as a physical connection and follow it. Move along the line until you reach into me. I’ve opened myself up to you.” 

I had never done this before. Never once did I let anyone caress me like that, feel and sense me like that. Use me like that. But then again, I had never encountered anyone worthy of that privilege. Until now. 

Michael closed his eyes and concentrated until I felt him touch upon the power that surged through me. But instead of just transporting us, he started to explore, curiously staring into the bottomless well within me. “You need to focus. Get us where we need to be and I’ll show you around some other day,” I warned and shoved him out of a place where he didn’t need to look. 

The world around us stilled for a short moment before it went black. As he moved us from one place to the other, through the realms, I held on to him, my power steadying his. In the blink of an eye, sunlight suddenly burned down on us and we found ourselves standing on barren grounds.

“Well done,” I complimented him before I shut him out, building up an adamant wall between us. “You’re trembling,” I realized with worry and cupped his handsome face, “You need to breathe and center yourself.” 

Blood began trickling from his nose and I understood that I had pushed him too far. While he may be powerful, his abilities were clearly limited — and moving between time and space across a longer distance was, apparently, one of those limitations. 

“You are…much stronger than you led on,” Michael gasped and leaned into my touch, desperate to regain control. I shrugged, “My power has its restraints. Maybe I will tell you about them someday.” With shaky fingers, he produced a handkerchief from an inside pocket of his black velvet dinner jacket. Of course, he would have one of those. 

“Here, let me,” I offered and helped him clean up, “I will launder this for you when we get back to the house.” My mocking tone resulted in him chuckling gently. Good. The Michael I had learned to appreciate only yesterday was still in there. 

A few moments passed before his body and breathing steadied as if he had to recover from a long run. “Are you feeling better?” I checked. 

When he nodded, I folded up the handkerchief and stuffed it back into his jacket, “Then let’s raise some hell.” Michael offered me his arm and after I had hooked mine through it, he guided me towards a dark, tall, volute sculpture.   
“This is your former school?” I asked with astonishment because I couldn’t detect any spell that would conceal an actual building beyond. “It’s underground,” he explained, guiding me between the walls until we arrived at what would be the doors of an elevator. 

“I understand the cavernous basement now,” I noted and could feel the ghost of his blood on my skin. The doors opened on their own account without any of us touching anything, making me snap out of the daydreams of yesterday’s events.

“Don’t expect to find any other answers here,” he clarified as we walked into the elevator. “Don’t take away what little fun I might get out of this,” I warned teasingly and pinched his arm. However, Michael didn’t engage. Instead, his mask of poise and arrogance was firmly in place. He was the Prince of Hell incarnate. 

The doors slid away and presented us with a grand entrance hall that was merely illuminated by candles. A lot of flames, considering that there was nowhere to flee should a fire erupt. Interesting. The warlocks must trust their own abilities tenaciously, I concluded.

Our steps against the polished hardwood floors echoed off of the smooth, tall stone walls and it took my eyes a while to adjust to the dim, golden light. A smell of amber incense hung in the air and its haunting bouquet of florals, musk, and resins accentuated the crackling fire around us. This place housed a lot of magic, there was no doubt about it, and my power hummed in appreciation. 

Michael led me through the scarcely decorated space that appeared to have been modeled as a modern interpretation of Art Deco architecture and design, with geometrical shapes to be found on arches, doorways, and embedded into the floor. At least this bunker had been made with style to spare, I had to give them that. And it must be spacious, too, considering we hadn’t encountered a single person so far. 

This changed when we stepped through an archway and into a two-floor, rounded library. A fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace, but its flames were mostly hidden by three men that stood before it and looked at Michael and me with utter disbelief.

Instinctively my spine straightened and I lifted my chin, but I waited for my companion to say something, or to introduce me if he felt so inclined. 

It was the smallest of them who broke the expectant silence, “So the long-lost son returns.” A triumphant smile spread on his face, while the others looked more misgiving, their suspicious gazes fixed on me. I didn’t have to look at Michael to know the sly smile he was giving his former teachers. I had seen it that night in the alley and just the thought of it made a shiver dance down my spine. 

The tallest of the warlocks, a charismatic man whose dark eyes locked with mine, swallowed hard and I couldn’t blame him. Michael in himself was intimidating, but together, he and I looked like the emperor and empress of the night, emanating power, majesty, and a certain darkness. Yes, if anyone could bring this world to its knees, it would be us.

“What are you doing back here?” he asked, the question clearly intended for Michael although his stare was fixed on me. “Claiming my rightful spot as the Supreme,” Michael answered and his tone was cold enough to make the room’s temperature drop. 

“It’s not that simple, you know that,” the warlock’s gaze finally slid to Michael, “And, please, have enough courtesy to introduce your female escort.” He folded his arms in front of his body, pursed his lips and waited for an explanation. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. He was feisty and I couldn’t help but like him. 

“Yes, I believe introductions are in order,” the third warlock who was wearing black framed glasses agreed and took a few steps towards us, “My name is Baldwin Pennypacker.” He politely inclined his head before gesturing to the small man, “This is our Grand Chancellor, Ariel Augustus.” Ariel gave me a small, acknowledging nod but appeared preoccupied with the fact that his golden boy had returned. His enthusiasm made me question why Michael had left this place to begin with. 

“And this is my colleague Behold Chablis,” Baldwin concluded. Behold lifted his chin, unwilling to properly greet us without knowing who I was. Out of the three, he would need the most convincing. 

“Valentine is a friend of mine who has kindly agreed to accompany me.” As the words rolled from Michael’s tongue, Ariel frowned. “I thought you didn’t have any friends,” he noted skeptically.   
“He does now,” I corrected and casually lowered the adamant walls, letting my power intertwine with Michael’s, the strong connection resonating through the room. With a smug smile, I sent a small tremor through the ground, just to make it a little more atmospheric. Fortunately, Michael didn’t as much as blink at the tiny display of my own power. 

“Are you one of Cordelia’s girls?” Ariel demanded, clearly threatened by the sudden awareness of having a strong woman in the room. “She’s not a witch, she’s something else,” Michael interjected and I fought the urge to bring down my heel on his foot. 

“Pray tell, what did you bring into our midst?” Behold regarded me intently, his eyes narrowing to slits. I didn’t want to tell them what I was, so all I could do was to put some other cards on the table and hope that they would satisfy their curiosity. Michael had been unaware of the existence of the community that I belonged to but, hopefully, these men, so closely connected to the magical society, were better informed. 

“I am the protégé of Clémence Joséphinè of Laval,” I spoke her name with more pride than my own and recognition flashed across the warlocks’ faces. 

“The Queen of the Undead is your master?” Ariel checked, flabbergasted. I shook my head, “She is my mentor, not my master. She will be the one to sire me because she has chosen me as heiress to her throne.” I felt Michael stiffen beside me and immediately knew that I had a lot of explaining to do when we were alone. 

“She is letting you roam while you are still human?” the Grand Chancellor was utterly bewildered, “Why have I never heard of you before? Clémence has never disclosed the existence of an heiress.”   
“That’s Her Majesty for you, and of course she wouldn’t reveal my existence. Would you openly share your strongest weapon with the world? I don’t think so,” I said firmly. 

They would find me now. They would come and take me away. Michael had expected the warlocks to share my location and because he had been stupid enough to introduce me as something other than a witch, they now knew who to contact. However, it was the smarter choice to tell them who I belonged to. Clémence would throw a fit if the warlocks, or any other group of the magical society, knew that I was a goddess. To her, I was like a rare and precious treasure that she was unwilling to share with anyone. And I had always agreed. 

The warlocks exchanged looks, silently considering what they could do with this information.   
“I am here on unofficial duty, though. My only interest is to support Michael in becoming the next Supreme,” I clarified, “And because I do this on my own time, I would advise you not to go running to my Queen. She has never been fond of tattletales.” 

“We wouldn’t let that kind of danger into the Academy. We have the responsibility to keep our students safe,” Ariel scoffed and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snorting. By letting Michael into their school, they had left their doors wide open to an untested, uncontrolled danger that posed a much larger threat than the soulless monster I called my mentor. But, of course, they were unaware of him being what he was. 

“Somehow I doubt you speak the truth, Grand Chancellor. Something tells me you’d like nothing more than to run to my Queen to win her goodwill,” I remarked. Michael shifted from one foot to the other, recognizing his own words from the night before. He still wanted to win my goodwill, too. 

“I suggest you stay tight-lipped about me being here and, in return, your discretion will prove itself advantageous when I become Queen in the near future.”   
It wasn’t Ariel who answered me, but Behold, “We acquiesce to your request.” I gave him a deep nod as a sign of gratitude. Apparently, he was the only one with sense around here.

“You should be prepared to stay with us for a few days. We need to contact the Supreme and inform her that Michael has returned to us and now demands his rightful place,” Baldwin explained, “We will prepare two rooms that you may stay in.”   
“One room will suffice,” Michael clarified and I felt my heart flutter at his words, at the prospect of sharing a bed with him again. Preferably naked. 

Behold arched an eyebrow, clearly thinking ‘to each their own’. I found it fascinating that he was the only one who appeared unsettled by Michael. And me, for that matter. For some reason, I expected him to demand where I got my powers from. Truthfully, being Clémence’s heiress didn’t exactly explain them. 

“Classes will resume shortly. I would be grateful if the two of you would stay here, for now, someone will take you to your room shortly. During dinner I will announce Michael’s return,” Ariel said and gestured towards one of the two heavy couches, “Make yourselves comfortable.” 

The warlocks then filed out of the room, leaving us behind. 

Michael pulled his arm away and turned to look at me, “And when exactly were you planning to tell me that you would become Queen of the Undead?”


	8. Chapter 8

I slumped down on the couch and looked at Michael with pulled up eyebrows, “I’m sorry. I can’t exactly remember our heart to heart where you told me all of your plans for the future.” Michael shot me an icy look and I started to doubt that he would want to undress me tonight. 

“You already know them,” he said brusquely.   
“Oh, please. I may have given into you too quickly, but I’m not an idiot. I know that you want something more than just becoming Supreme. You keep your secrets, and I keep mine.”   
“Secrets,” he spat the words at me mockingly and started to pace back and forth before the fireplace.   
“Why does this upset you so much? How does this change anything? I’ve mentioned Clémence before and I accidentally told you that I’m an heiress. You could have made the connection yourself, you know. It’s not that hard,” I argued. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me viciously.  
“Unless,” I straightened and regarded him intently, “Unless, no one has ever told you anything about all of the things that are actually hiding out there, in the dark. What exactly did they teach you here? And who taught you before that?” 

“That is none of your concern,” he snapped. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at this giant baby from hell. Granted, I had already guessed that his background was even more complicated than my own but why weren’t the warlocks teaching their students about mythical and supernatural creatures? After all, we had coexisted for centuries, and mostly peacefully. 

I rose from the couch, closed the distance between us, and came to stand before him. But when I reached for his hand, he pulled away. Hurt jolted through me at his clear rejection.

“Michael, you knew about the bloodstone. You knew that I would become one of them. You knew that I was important,” I pleaded and clenched my fists to keep myself from reaching out again. Ever so slowly, his facial features softened as if my words started to register with him. 

“So what if I’m the future Queen of the Undead? I didn’t hold it against you when I found out that you’re the Antichrist. And didn’t you want me to embrace my darkness? Don’t you think that the embodiment of Hecate, turned into a soulless, undead, seductive creature that lives off of the living is the epitome of darkness? Next to you?” 

As my nails dug into my palms, I took a deep breath and waited for him to understand, to react.

“Don’t use that word in here,” he eventually noted and lifted his chin. My eyebrows nudged together, “I didn’t even say it. I hate to say that I will become a vampire, it sounds so cheesy.” His eyes lit up when I finally used the phrase that I loathed so much. “That’s not the one I meant, but thank you for finally saying it.” 

“Oh,” I realized, “Don’t worry, I won’t mention your father to anyone. But if you honestly believe they won’t find out, then not even my goodwill can help you. You may believe yourself above these people, but they aren’t mentally challenged. At some point, they will figure it out.” 

“I liked you so much better back at the house,” Michael shook his head and sighed through his nose, obviously tired of listening to me. Good. Because I was tired of having to explain basic shit to him.   
“And I liked you so much better with your head between my legs, but we don’t always get what we want,” I shrugged and saw how a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Conceited ass. 

“I might just be willing to grant you that wish, depending on how well-behaved you are tonight,” he chuckled and I shook my head in disbelief. His mood swings were making me dizzy.   
Michael looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties but sometimes he behaved so much younger. He was clever and had, undoubtedly, come to terms with himself completely, knew himself and what he wanted. And yet, something just didn’t add up. I filed the thought away for later and decided to change the topic, more than ready to close the heiress-discussion for now. 

“Since we’re here, in this spacious and well-assorted library, I should maybe give you some insight into the society I belong to. Maybe you’ll stop thundering against me then,” I turned on my heel and headed towards one of the many shelves, letting my instinct guide me to the scripture I needed. 

“I swear, sometimes I don’t even know why you kept me around when you seem to resent me so much,” I mused quietly to myself as I flipped through the pages of an old grimoire. Michael’s arms snaked around my waist from out of nowhere and pulled me against him. Immediately, memories from the day before flashed before my eyes and I felt my heartbeat flutter. The way he held me, the way he knew exactly how and when to touch me. I wanted him. So much. 

“I could never resent you,” Michael admitted and kissed the top of my head, “What would make you think I’d do that?” Involuntarily, my body leaned against him, welcoming his embrace, eager to get closer to him. 

“Because…,” I took a deep breath and considered my words, “You appear to have certain expectations of me and I’m not sure I can live up to them. You expect me to support your cause without knowing what exactly you want to achieve, and I’m unwilling to do that. I will not just let myself be manipulated by you. It’s obvious that you usually succeed in getting others to do your dirty work but I won’t be one of them.”  
“That could never make me hate you. It makes you annoying, capricious, and intractable. But you challenge me and that…draws me to you,” he concluded, his voice tinged with uncertainty and wonder. He hadn’t foreseen to become fond of me, just as I hadn’t planned on becoming fond of him. 

“Like a moth drawn to a flame,” I agreed and let my fingers bush over the back of his hand, savoring his warmth, “Let’s just hope that neither of us will burn their wings.” 

“I thought you could control fire?” he breathed the question against my neck before pressing his lips against my skin. Oh, I knew where this was going. “Nice interrogation technique, albeit a little obvious and unfair,” I bit my lip and tipped my head to the side, giving him more space.   
“Answer me this and I’ll reward you for it,” he offered, “Generously.” 

I didn’t even pretend to consider his offer before I extinguished every single flame in the room with nothing but a minuscule thought. Now, with darkness wrapped around us, his hands started to pull up the skirt of my dress with agonizing gradualness.   
The grimoire fell to the ground with a thud. “Let’s play later,” I gasped and stopped his hands, sensing something in the rooms beyond. “Why later?” he crooned and turned me around so he could kiss me deeply, carefully maneuvering me against the stacks. I didn’t have enough self-control to ask him to stop again. 

“Because you’re no longer alone. Your room is ready,” a man’s voice said out of the darkness. Michael broke away from me and looked over his shoulder to see who had the audacity to disturb us.   
“What he said,” I mumbled and craned my neck to see past Michael as the flames lit up around us once more. A handsome and eccentrically dressed warlock leaned casually against the archway, his steel blue eyes scrutinizing us with distrust and a certain repulsion. 

“You must be a very unfortunate creature considering that Michael Langdon touches you like that,” he said contemptuously and pushed himself off of the archway. He had some nerve addressing me like that. Quickly I decided that it wasn’t Behold Chablis who posed the biggest problem, but rather this man. 

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Michael noted drily as his fingers interlaced with mine in a silent demonstration of partnership and he tugged at me gently so I would come to stand next to him. This felt very different from how he usually preferred to make me feel. Right now, I wasn’t just a possession — I was a companion, a playmate, an ally. And a very strong one at that. My bond with Michael sizzled in response to this new form of solidarity. 

“I never expected Clémence to put the future of her community into the unproven hands of a young witch,” he remarked and took a few steps towards us. Michael drew in a breath to retort something, but I beat him to it, “What makes you think I’m unproven? If you knew anything about my mentor, you’d know that she chose me with great care and consideration.”   
He shrugged nonchalantly, “I like to believe that I know the Queen of the Undead.” 

I could only laugh at the smug smile that flashed across his face, knowing perfectly well what he was implying, “Oh, please. Just because you’ve shared a bed with her doesn’t mean she would share any of her political plans with you. Who are you, anyway?” His smile faltered slightly.   
Michael was clearly enjoying this small banter as I could feel a reassuring sense of contentment flowing through our bond. It was obvious that he disliked this warlock. 

“I’m John Henry Moore,” he introduced himself and searched my face for any sign of recognition. Clémence, in actual fact, had never mentioned him before and I arched an eyebrow to let him know.   
“Is she aware of the company you keep?” John Henry demanded and folded his arms in front of his body protectively. I shook my head, “She doesn’t need to know everything about me. I’m still very much my own person, thank you for asking.”   
“Maybe someone should let her know that you have submitted yourself to the warlocks’ boy wonder,” his words triggered a darkness within me that rarely unfolded itself. But now, it washed over me like the suffocating, icy water I had almost drowned in. Michael shifted slightly to look at me, clearly confused by the sudden deviation of my power. 

The place I hadn’t wanted him to see this morning was suddenly broken open and displayed itself. He squeezed my hand encouragingly, curious to witness how I would defeat the warlock.   
“I don’t do well with provocation or threats, Mr. Moore. You should tread carefully,” I warned him and felt the earth tremble around us, answering me willingly. “Was this small trick supposed to be a display of power?” John Henry scorned, a grin plastered to his face. And I had always thought Michael to be cocky. 

I remembered how I had told him that these people weren’t my subjects, that I was not interested in stripping them off their powers, to make myself known to them. However, if I was met with so little comity I might reconsider. 

Gently, I pulled my hand from Michael’s and took slow, deliberate steps towards the rude warlock, my skirt hissing against the floor with every movement. Unwavering, John Henry looked at me defiantly, “Should I be scared now?”   
“Yes,” Michael warned, “You should.” But the warlock ignored him. 

I paced around John Henry and sized him up just when the darkness engulfed me completely and swallowed up any warmth, kindness, or compassion. My power crept into him unnoticed, quietly latching on to every single magical gift he possessed, while he still looked utterly self-complacent.

“Well, I don’t feel anything, young lady,” he prompted with a triumphant grin when I stopped in front of him, mirroring his mask of superiority. Behind me, Michael drew in a sharp breath, anticipating my next move. 

“Tell me, Mr. Moore,” I started and let my gaze wander over him as I started to drag my claws over his gifts lazily to give him a sharp, malicious foretaste of what was to come, “Do you feel this?”   
The moment I unveiled my influence, he cringed, fear and pain flashing in his eyes as I broke into him and started to pull. Under my heavy impact, his gifts trembled before they started to crumble, slowly disintegrating. I could wipe them away with a single blow but decided against it. Where would the fun in that be?

“Repeat yourself, Mr. Moore,” I challenged and tilted my head with predatory grace, “Tell me how I’m unproven, weak, and insignificant. And while you’re at it, tell my mentor that I’m here and that I have surrendered myself to one of you, that I am no longer imperious and in charge of myself.”   
John Henry whimpered and slumped over, completely unprotected and helpless. “I said,” I hissed and loosened my control, “repeat yourself.” 

A gasp of relief escaped him when I decided to retreat only to leave his gifts in shambles. I looked down on him with icy distaste, “I told you, I don’t do well with threats. Now apologize and I will restore your magic.”

“Restore it? How could possibly undo what you just did?” he panted. Michael came to stand beside me and regarded his teacher with fascination, “Maybe you should just do as she says.”   
“I…am sorry,” he spat the words and tried to push himself up but failed piteously. With a satisfied sense of victory, my darkness furled up like a content, purring kitten and put an end to its own menace and terror. 

Without my dark side’s authority, it was as if I looked down on the beaten warlock through different eyes. I swallowed hard and realized what I had done: not only had I broken someone, I had done so just because I could. As if it had been nothing but a game that I only wanted to win to prove a point. My eyes slid to Michael who looked utterly pleased. He had waited for this part of me to show itself. 

“I accept your apology,” I hurried to say and squatted down, my black skirt pooling around me like the darkness had only a moment ago, “Let me heal you.”   
When I extended my hands, John Henry flinched, fear radiating from him intensely.   
“I promise, I won’t hurt you again,” I tried and waited for him to take my hand. For a moment, he regarded me with suspicion but eventually put his hand in mine. The moment he touched me, I let my power wash over him. Within the blink of an eye, I rebuild everything I had destroyed, restored his gifts, and added to them as an offering of remorse. 

I straightened and helped the warlock stand up. “How did you do that?” he asked with wonder, “You obliterated my magic and rehabilitated it without moving a finger, without uttering a single word.” 

“You shouldn’t have condemned me like you did. Clémence chose me as her successor because I am very, very powerful. And that’s all you need to know,” I concluded and pulled my hand back so I could smooth over my dress. 

“But,” he started and closed his eyes to feel for his magic, “I feel more powerful now than before. I feel better than when I walked in here.”   
“That’s because I regretted what I did to you and I believe in righting my wrongs. Thoroughly,” I explained, “Now, do I have your word that you won’t go running to my Queen?” 

He paused for a moment but eventually nodded, “I was done with her anyway.” I shook my head slowly when I realized that he was no longer in her good graces, “I’m pretty sure she was done with you. Nice bluff, though.” What a waste of breath. 

A nervous laugh escaped him and he looked slightly uncomfortable, “Let me show you to your room. You should still be familiar with it, Michael.” The men shared a glance that was filled with equal repulsion.   
“Then there’s no need for you to come with us. I’ll show her myself,” Michael noted dismissively and I felt his hand at the small of my back as he started to guide me out of the library, “We will see you at dinner. And in the meantime, you should count your blessings.”

The moment we had stepped through the archway and started down a hallway, Michael’s arm wrapped around my waist. “You were mesmerizing,” his voice was barely more than a whisper. To him, this had been arousing, a thrill of pleasure. 

With swift steps, he ushered me up a winding staircase and down another corridor. I was grateful to have him by my side because this place was labyrinthine. The school’s bareness and its golden light made every hallway, door, and nook look identical. 

“This is my old room,” he announced when we stopped in front of a dark mahogany door and he gestured for me to enter.  
Just like the rest of the school, the room was mostly bare and only illuminated by candles and a crackling fire that was contained by a fireplace in the corner. Next to the door was a minimalistic dark dresser and across from it was another door which probably lead into a bathroom. The neatly made bed took up most of the room as the only other furniture was a simple desk.

I took a few steps into the room and asked myself how anyone could possibly live down here for longer than a few days. “Didn’t you miss the moon down here?” I asked and turned around as Michael had been oddly quiet since we had entered. 

“Take off your dress,” he instructed hungrily and leaned against the locked door, “You deserve your reward.” His tone immediately made heat pound between my legs. 

“No,” I said and folded my arms in front of my body, “If this is my reward, I want to be in control.” Michael looked surprised when he pushed himself off the door, his steps unhurried when he closed the distance between us, “Then so be it.” 

Patiently, he waited for me to put my arms around his neck and to lay my lips on his. But at my touch, his self-control dwindled away and his fingers started to work on the buttons of my dress. This time, he wanted me. This time, he needed to get his hands on me.   
I realized that when he had offered to reward me in the library, it had only been to conceal his own desire. Today he wasn’t drunk on my blood, but solely on my power. 

My hands stopped his, so I could slide off his dinner jacket and start to unbutton his shirt. Eventually, he stood before me in nothing but his pants, clearly eager to undress me next. Teasingly, I let my fingers dance down his beautiful body until they slipped into his pants. He pulled in a breath when my hand found his excited length. At the feeling of him in my hand, I got impatient myself and helped him discard his last clothing. “May I undress you now?” Michael checked breathlessly and I breathed my ‘yes’ onto his lips. 

Although I had chosen the lingerie with care this morning, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he was preoccupied with feeling me, so every touch, every caress was placed tactically and with ease.

“I thought I was in charge?” I reminded him and pushed him onto the bed. Fire burned in his eyes when I looked at him, only to then trail kisses down his chest. A moan slipped over his lips when I put his erection into my mouth. Slowly, I started to suck and moved up and down his shaft with tight lips. It was my plan to tease him with the same agonizing pace that he had used on me the night before but when I increased both intensity and tempo, I felt him tense under my touch. “Stop,” his raspy voice ordered. 

“How do you want me?” I asked and planted a kiss under his earlobe, “I’m yours.”   
He didn’t utter an answer but instead grabbed my hips and moved me on top of him. I obliged and straddled him with a smooth movement. With very little guidance, I eased onto him and savored the feeling of him filling me. Michael pushed himself up so his arms could circle my body, binding me to him as he kissed me deeply. 

When I started to move up and down, he joined me expertly and met me with a thrust every time. While our rhythm was slow at first, neither of us had the patience to keep it that way and it didn’t take me long to tip over the edge. The feeling of me coming undone around him resulted in his own release and I held onto him for dear life when he breathed my name against my skin. 

Breathlessly, we collapsed onto the bed. “You, my dear, are ravishing,” he announced and pulled me into his arms. “Dinner is still a few hours away,” I reminded him after a while, “So let me be a seductress once more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I’d include the seven songs I’ve listened to the most whilst writing this chapter. If you’d like me to disclose more parts of my playlist, let me know. Hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> 1.“In the Dark” by Alice Kristiansen  
> 2.“How Does That Make You Feel” by Ariana and the Rose  
> 3.“Fall” by Fwdslxsh   
> 4.“Wolf & I” by Oh Land  
> 5.“Control” by Halsey  
> 6.“Saint” by Vérité  
> 7.“Need/Want” by The Venus Project


	9. Chapter 9

Indistinct chatter flowed from the spacious dining hall that held a table long enough to seat all of the almost twenty students, their teachers, and possible guests. Unsurprisingly, the head of the table was reserved for the Grand Chancellor who was now leading us into the room. Ever so slowly, the sociable chitchat died down to an inquisitive murmur and I couldn’t remember a time when so many men had followed my every movement with such great curiosity.   
Before sitting down to the Grand Chancellor’s right, Michael pulled out the chair opposite of him and asked me to sit. John Henry slid into the chair next to me, while Baldwin found his place to Michael’s right. At least they pretended to include us while Behold sat between the students and looked at us suspiciously. 

“How are you feeling?” I asked John Henry under my breath. He gave me a crooked smile, “Better than ever, to say the least.” Of course, he would. 

My gaze glided over the young men, all dressed in dapper black uniforms. Some of them looked comfortable and confident, while others appeared more insecure and shy, evading to meet my eye.  
Now that I was among them, I understood why the warlocks didn’t want my Queen to enter this house. To her, this was barely more than a well-dressed buffet. For this reason, I was all the more surprised by how John Henry had apparently been involved with Clémence and decided I would have to ask him about it the next chance I got. 

“Gentlemen, may I have your attention please,” Ariel called out and rose from his seat to overlook everyone, “As you may have noticed, our champion has found his way back to us. Michael has returned to finally claim his place as our next Supreme.” He paused and let the young men applaud their former classmate. The enthusiasm Michael was met with was immense and I couldn’t help but ask myself, yet again, why he had left this place. This group appeared to be very supportive of him, so why would he bother dragging anyone else into this? 

“I have contacted Cordelia Goode and asked her to join us tomorrow night at the new moon to celebrate this new beginning,” Ariel rose his glass and I ignored the fact that he had not introduced me. If not even Michael had been informed about the other magical communities, I doubted that students with less potential would know of the vast world outside these walls. To introduce me, would mean for Ariel to open a door that he might not be able to close again. 

“To new beginnings,” the Grand Chancellor toasted and everyone followed suit. Except for me. 

I had smelled the potion that had been mixed into my wine the moment the glass had been placed in front of me. Michael looked at me quizzically but understood when I pushed the drink away. “Veritas liquidus. Nice touch but utterly ineffective when I’m one step ahead of you,” I muttered under my breath so the students wouldn’t hear. There was no need to drag the boys into this and cause a scene. Having these power hungry men as their teachers was bad enough. 

Ariel paled and swallowed hard as he shot Baldwin a short look of panic. He quietly sat down and met Michael’s eyes apologetically. “Disappointment doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I commented and shook my head, “What exactly did you expect me to reveal once my tongue was loosened?”   
Michael stiffened in his seat, realizing that this could have exposed his true nature to these men. Not only my own divine heritage would have presented itself, but also his connection to Satan. We both walked a dangerous, deceptive line here. 

“I’ll choose to ignore this faux pas but would kindly ask you to refrain from provoking me further. Otherwise, Mr. Moore can vouch for what I might do to you,” I said as no one answered my question. John Henry grimaced next to me. Obviously, he hadn’t planned on sharing his experience from earlier. 

As if on cue, dinner was served and put a stop to this uncomfortable conversation. It also kept Michael from having to defend me which I felt he had just been about to do. Anger still pulsed through our bond noticeably, but I offered him a small smile and answered his anger with warm reassurance. 

Fortunately, the delicious looking meal was neither laced with poison nor any other potion, so I gratefully started to eat.   
The only dinner conversation came from the young men that were discussing classes, their excitement over Michael being back, and the returned possibility of greatness. 

“When am I to meet your Supreme tomorrow?” I asked now that I had decided that none of these men were worth my trust. Instead, I wanted to talk to the woman in charge as she surely would be more respectful and diplomatic. I had heard her name being mentioned by Clémence before and it hadn’t been in a negative context, which made me hopeful. 

Ariel put down his fork, “You will not be able to partake in the council meeting.” His voice was final and dismissive. My spine straightened as I stared him down, “That wasn’t my question, now was it?” He pursed his lips and waited for me to go on.   
“What exactly are you afraid of? I’m here to support Michael, not undermine him. You should welcome me.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Ariel hissed low enough so that his students wouldn’t hear. Of course, it would be the only thing he would hear. I rubbed my brows with my thumb and forefinger, desperate to cut him open with the steak knife that sat on the table.   
“You should be,” John Henry muttered and repeated Michael’s warning which he had so foolishly ignored before, “She’s powerful. She might even exceed Miss Cordelia.” 

“I don’t belong to your coven or society. Don’t attempt to draw parallels when we are incomparable,” I clarified, “I don’t doubt that your current Supreme is powerful and I am well aware of Michael’s many talents.” He bit his cheek to keep from grinning at my insinuation. After all, he had offered me his talents until we had almost been late for dinner.

“We’re different, you and I. Don’t compare the sun with the moon.”

Michael collected himself before he turned to Ariel, “This is the last time you’ve insulted her. I will not have it. As she said, she is here to support me and so she shall be treated as an ally.”   
The Grand Chancellor clenched his jaw but eventually nodded stiffly, “I will arrange for a meeting between Miss Cordelia and yourself after the council has discussed Michael’s rise to Supreme.” I inclined my head in agreement and turned my attention back to the food. 

After Michael had stood up for me, the warlocks kept their mouths shut and didn’t ask about me or my background again. But they didn’t exactly apologize for their inappropriate behavior either. They did, however, wish me a good night before retreating to their private suites after dinner. Some of the schoolboys followed suit as they slowly started to warm up to me, and to the idea of a woman in their midst. 

“Did you wear that uniform, too?” I checked conversationally as I followed Michael down one of the nondescript hallways. “I did. Why would you ask?” he peeked at me from the corner of his eyes.   
“Because this place is so much unlike you. I can’t see you here at all.” I let my fingers glide over the polished stone walls and let the essence of this place run through me. The walls were desperate to whisper their secrets to me. This place could never have taught him. Like me, he was different and didn’t belong here. 

“You’re playing these people,” I finally stated, “Why?” 

“I told you. They are in my way.” He didn’t slow down but kept walking, completely undeterred with his hands folded behind his back. So he hadn’t left this act at the dinner table but was bringing it back to the room. Great. 

“I just can’t wrap my head around why you want to become Supreme. Because it’s painfully obvious that you’re not their next Supreme at all. You neither a witch nor a warlock, you could never be their rightful leader.”   
“Careful what you say.” With swift hands he pinned me against the wall, the cold of it biting through the thin fabric of my dress. 

“Can you blame me for trying to fill in the blanks?” I demanded and met his icy stare unblinkingly. The fact that I had ever been afraid of him, had considered him dangerous, was incomprehensible to me now.  
No, Michael could never pose a threat. But his influence on me could make me do unspeakable things. For this reason, I needed to find out what his endgame was. Desperately. Otherwise, there was no way of telling to what ends he could push me. 

“There is no need to tell you now. You will find out soon enough,” he promised and his lips curled up in a vicious smile as his grip on me tightened. I scolded myself for ever having believed that he would see me as his equal, that he would stop to dominate me. 

A sigh snuck over my lips before I collected myself and lifted my chin, “So what now? Will you fuck me against this wall and try to make me forget about all of the unanswered questions between us?”   
“Valentine, one would think you could read my mind,” he said amused and kissed my cheek, “Would you let me?” My body wanted me to say yes but this time he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of me giving into him. 

“No,” I said decidedly, “In fact, I want you to let me go and get away from me. You’ve had enough of me for a lifetime.” Instantly, his smile faltered and confusion flashed across his face, “Excuse me?”   
“Yes, excuse you. Now get off of me, devil boy, or I will make you.” The air between us was crackling with so much anger, spitefulness, and power, but Michael didn’t let me go. “I warned you,” I hissed. 

“And what exactly will you do to me? Cut off my air? Set me on fire?” he teased and leaned in until we shared breath. Before he could lay his lips on mine, I ran my knee into his groin and he staggered back with a grunt. “Not everything has to be magical,” I noted nonchalantly, padded him on the shoulder and walked back towards the dining hall. From there I should be able to find the elevator. If not, I would just tear this place apart altogether. 

To my relief, I found the elevator without getting lost and the doors slid apart noiselessly as I approached them. So far, Michael hadn’t caught up to me and I was grateful for it, well-knowing that he would come after me and throw a hissy fit. 

As the elevator climbed to the surface, I considered whether I should use this moment wisely. Michael wouldn’t find me for another few minutes and, in the meantime, I could easily leave this place. Leave him. The bond would let him find me, but as soon as I was back with Clémence, William, and the rest of my nest, I would be untouchable. 

The moment I stepped out, the cold nighttime air welcomed and engulfed me. I took a deep breath and filled my lungs before I found my way out of the sculpture and onto the barren grounds that surrounded the school. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as the night calmed my senses and centered me. When I looked up into the sky, the stars twinkled at me and I knew it was Asteria who was greeting her daughter. 

Did I want to run? Put an end to this, whatever it was? 

The world stilled around me as I reached into the deep well and prepared to move myself between the worlds. Maybe I had to close this door before Michael would even get the chance to ask me to kill all of the witches.   
A sudden chill rushed through me when I realized that this was exactly what he wanted to do. Become their master. Kill all the witches. Yes. But, why? 

“Do friends leave without saying goodbye?” Michael’s voice came out of the darkness, cold and smooth as a snake gliding through water. I looked over my shoulder and saw him striding towards me, guilt and pain written on his beautiful features. 

“I’m not sure we are friends,” I admitted and my powers paused.   
“What makes you say that?” he asked ruefully. 

I turned to face him, “Because you’re just using me. Or at least a part of you is. There is so much about you that I don’t understand. And you never let me see you. Why?”   
Michael’s eyes lined with silver and my heart stopped, “Because you will run. You will leave me.”   
My hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into my touch. This vulnerability was new and it was heartbreaking. 

“Michael,” I started and my thumb wiped away the tear that had left his eye, “if you let me, I’ll help you. With anything. These people down there or the witches, wherever they are, are not your equals. But I can be.” At my words, his power entwined itself with mine and there was no way of telling where he ended and where I began. 

And while Asteria watched from above, I realized that while Michael might never control my powers, he could end up controlling a different part of me very soon. I was falling for him. If he would open up to me, let me see him, I would end up offering him my heart and that would be infinitely more dangerous. But I wasn’t sure if could close this door after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The seven songs that inspired me the most whilst writing:
> 
> 1.“Shut Out of Paradise” by SLO  
> 2.“Mermaid” by Skott  
> 3.“you should see me in a crown” by Billie Eilish  
> 4.“Ayahuasca” by Vancouver Sleep Clinic  
> 5.“Eyes On Fire” by Blue Foundation  
> 6.“Goodbye” by Apparat  
> 7.“Avarice” by Throwing Snow


	10. Chapter 10

My offer to him hung in the air between us, still unanswered, and still under consideration. I wished he would agree, wished that he would let me be the reflection of his power and intentions.  
At this point, our connection and attraction was so undeniable that it would cause either of us great pain to separate from the other. I could only hope that he would accept and allow himself to succumb to our connection. With me. Together.

“Why do you hesitate?” I dared to ask and took his beautiful face between my hands, his skin cold against my warm palms, “I’m willing to give myself to you in exchange for your honesty. Tell me who you are, and I am yours. A companion, friend, partner in crime…lover. Whatever you need.”  
He shut his eyes in pain and another tear ran down his cheek, “Sometimes, I’m not sure who I am at all.”

His usual self-assured demeanor was completely gone and exchanged for the insecurity of a young, lost boy. A boy, who had been used and wronged in the past. There was so much about him that I still needed to learn. If he would let me.

“You told me to look at what I could become. Maybe you should do the same? I can sense so much about you, but some of your places are so dark that I need you to guide me. There are things you need to explain,” I offered and my power caressed his invitingly, reassuringly. Goosebumps crawled over his skin in response to the mental touch.  
“I’ve seen you turn to your father for spiritual guidance, but you can turn to me, too. I'm flesh and blood, I’m here, and while I may not have all the answers, I will do everything in my power to help you find them.”

Michael opened his eyes and it felt like he only now saw me for the first time.

“You’re astonishing,” he breathed, “How come you hold me tighter whenever I push you away?”  
I shrugged, a small smile playing on my lips, “Because I want to spin all of your sadness, all of your anger, and all of your doubts into silk. Someone did it for me once and it made me so much stronger. I believe that even the son of Satan should experience such kindness.”

“What you will see will be dark. You would be the only light down there,” he admitted and his arms wrapped around my waist as if he already expected me to run.  
“I’m not afraid of seeing you,” I assured him and kissed his last tear away, “And I’ve never been afraid of the dark. I was born from destruction and starlight, I can handle it.”

Michael leaned his forehead against mine and I felt his darkness cascade into me, spreading like ink in water. I gasped at the sensation, realizing just how much of himself he had held back. There was so much to explore, so much to see and feel.  
“Thank you,” I breathed, “Thank you for opening yourself up to me.” My lips met his in a tentative kiss. “And as a token of my gratitude I will share something with you that no one knows, except for Clémence.” Michael looked at me with great curiosity.

“I may be a goddess,” I began before drawing in a deep breath, “But what you have seen of me so far is only a sliver of what I should be capable of. My power wasn’t active until a few years ago. I’ve been dormant if you will, unaware of my own magic and identity. This, what I am now, is merely a human shell. And it has its limitations. So when I haven’t extended my goodwill to you, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to. It’s because…I don’t know how to anymore.”

As my words settled like dust after an explosion, I lowered my gaze, unable to look at him. I knew that I was still powerful, but I should be so much more. And, for the first time, I actually wanted to be something more. For him. To help him.  
Back in Seattle, I had played with the idea of putting an end to everything. Only because I didn’t see the point of breaking out of my shell. I had learned to live with it, to accept its restraints. My mentor, however, had not. Time and time again, Clémence had tried to motivate me, to incite my powers so she could benefit from them.

For a moment, I was afraid that Michael would be just as disappointed in me as Clémence when she had first realized that I was unable to use the full capacity of my abilities. But I felt his power tugging at my own playfully, felt how his darkness consoled my own. His fingers brushed against my jaw before he tilted my head up tenderly so I would look at him again, “Maybe I can help you? Maybe I will be the one to set you free?”

“If you succeed, if we succeed, I will grant you victory in battle.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. Inadvertently, I had just handed him a carte blanche. Michael grinned triumphantly, “I accept.”

So, here we where. The Antichrist and the Goddess of Magic. Allies, friends, and lovers. Not even in my wildest imagination would I ever have believed us to get here so quickly. To get here at all.

“Would you like to go back inside?” Michael’s voice pulled me out of my musings. My eyes flickered to the dark sculpture behind him. “I’d rather stay outside for a bit. I’ve been cooped up in buildings for so long, I’d like to enjoy the night for a while longer,” I answered, “Maybe we could go for a walk?”

“I don’t think there’s much out here,” Michael noted and looked around the clearing, underwhelmed by its barrenness. “There’s a lake hidden in the forest over there,” I nodded my head towards the dark tree line. “How do you know?” he demanded and regarded the forest with a skeptical expression.

“This place sings to me,” I explained, “Here, feel it.” I drew him in through the bond and guided him to the part of me that was affected by the nature surrounding us. Reluctantly, he started to explore and I felt his wonder as if it was my own.

Around us, nature was humming her unparalleled lullaby and every rustling leave, sprouting plant, and scurrying animal contributed in their own way, like individual musicians enticing haunting melodies from their instruments. Somewhere, not too far away from us, the soft rippling water promised to be a warm pool of starlight, a silver endearment asking to be visited.

“Does she always sing to you like this?” Michael asked and let go of me so that he could look around us. “Not this strongly, no. But this place is overflowing with magic. The warlocks didn’t build their school here for nothing. They can draw energy from it,” I explained and left my adamant walls down to let our powers dance freely.

“I can feel how you can bend the elements around us. Why didn’t you do that when you were drowning in the current?” Michael asked confused. “Because I couldn’t. Like I said, my abilities haven’t been my own for very long. They can be fickle and when you stole me, they went into hiding. If you hadn’t saved me, I would have died,” I admitted and started walking towards the gloomy forest, unconcerned by letting him know more about my power. It was only fair to show myself to him, too. This wasn’t a one-way street.

“What would have happened then?” He caught up to me easily as his long legs ate up the distance. “I don’t know. Maybe I would have been freed from my shell. Maybe Hades would have come for me. Maybe I would float in the waters of Styx for all eternity,” I shrugged and stopped when we reached the first few trees that towered over us like gatekeepers to a hidden world beyond.

“Hold out your hand,” I said and he looked at me quizzically, “I don’t want either of us stumbling. We need light.” Reluctantly, he lifted his hand, palm up. I hovered my hand over his and looked at him with a smirk when I produced a flame out of nowhere and willed it to sit on his hand. It wouldn’t burn him. Instead, it would feel like a cold tingle, like a limb falling asleep.  
“Fascinating,” he complimented as his other hand reached for mine. Our fingers interlaced as my own flame lit up on my free palm. The fires danced merrily on our skin and gave us just enough light to tread carefully through the underbrush.

While we found our way to the lake, we let ourselves be serenaded by the world around us, neither of us daring to interrupt nature’s beautiful song. Eventually, the trees gave way and revealed the inviting body of water. The overhead starlight mirrored itself in the glassy surface.

With a small wave of my hand, I dismissed the flame I was holding but allowed Michael’s to keep burning. Curiously, I stepped closer to the lakeshore, kicked off my shoes and felt the softness of the grassy bank against my feet. Leisurely, I started to unbutton my dress until I shrugged it off. The mild air kissed against my exposed body when I finally stood naked before him.

“Join me?” I asked with a playful grin and savored how his gaze wandered up and down my body. Hungrily, he studied every inch of me as the flame in his hand cast flickering shadows over my skin. With a satisfied chuckle, I turned around to take a step into the water which was surprisingly warm as it caressed my ankles. Slowly, I waded into the silken, welcoming embrace, the ripples of my movements distorting the perfectly mirroring surface.

“Just close your hand and the fire will die,” I said after realizing that the flame kept him from undressing. I could see the fire vanishing before I pushed my feet off the ground and swam out far enough to casually tread in place. In the inky darkness, his ivory skin almost looked a shimmery blue and I bit my lip at the sight of him. Satan had truly created a piece of art.

I frowned when he came to a halt, the water only just reaching past his waist. “Scared of not being able to see the ground?” I teased and took a few strokes to reach him. He shook his head with a surprisingly stern look, “I…don’t know how to swim.”

Utterly perplexed I regarded this powerful man, “But…you dragged me out of the river?”  
“That was with the help of my father,” he admitted. It suddenly dawned on me that when he had saved me, he had gotten himself into danger. Willingly, knowingly.

“Could it be,” I started and put my arms around him, “that you are more good than you pretend to be?” He scoffed, “Don’t get your hopes up.”  
“Don’t ruin the moment,” I scolded him jokingly and laid my lips on his to silence him, “Do you want me to show you how to swim? In this pool of starlight?”

“Maybe later,” he breathed his answer against my lips as his hand slowly danced over my skin, down the slope of my breasts, every touch an unspoken promise of how he would make me feel, “Don’t you want this first?” His hand moved further south, down my stomach, towards the heat that instantly had spread between my legs. My eyes closed as I anticipated his fingers to slip between my thighs, but instead, his hand stopped its roaming, taunting me.

“What do you want?” he asked and leaned in to plant a kiss on my neck before he nipped at my earlobe, “Tell me.” My body arched into his touch and breathlessly I replied, “You. This.” He chuckled gently before claiming my mouth.

A moan escaped me when his fingers finally brushed against my bundle of nerves. His other hand supported me, well aware that this time there was nothing I could lean against. He smiled against my lips as he felt how I ground my hips against his touch, desperate for more. “Like that?” he chuckled darkly.

Languidly, he eased a finger inside of me. “So wet already,” he noted with brazen satisfaction and added a second finger. He took a moment to stretch me, to let me adjust, but I couldn’t wait and started to move against him, forcing his fingers deeper inside of me.

“Greedy,” he snarled, his own arousal clearly audible in his suddenly husky voice. But he indulged me and started a merciless rhythm, his fingers plunging in and out, deep and hard.

I held on to him for dear life as my body started to tense. Michael could feel that I was getting close so he adjusted his wrist, assuring that I would get the friction exactly where I needed it. When his thumb rubbed against my clit cleverly, waves of pleasure finally rolled over me and my walls tightened around his touch. My climax surged through me violently and I moaned his name into the darkness.

When I finally went limp, he retreated his hand to better support me and I relaxed against him.

“Like I said at dinner, you have many talents,” I complimented after I had caught my breath, “And if anyone doubts that, I’ll find a place for you at my own court.” Wickedness shone in his eyes when he looked at me. “What exactly would you have me do at your court?” he asked and kissed me lovingly.  
“You could abduct my enemies and seduce them. You’re pretty good at that,” I joked. Michael laughed sincerely and brushed another kiss against my lips.

“But,” I started and bit my lip, weighing my words for just a moment, “considering our connection, the way our powers correspond, harmonize, and compliment each other… You could become my consort.”

Surprise flashed across his face and he frowned, “Are you serious? I thought you’d prefer your trophy husband to not have a pulse?” There was mockery in his tone, but I could read him well enough to know that he asked this because he needed to be certain of my offer.

“I’ve reconsidered,” I said and played with a strand of his hair, “And you wouldn’t be my trophy husband. You’re the son of Satan, after all. You deserve more agency. We could be King and Queen of the Moonlight. Reigning together.”

“King and Queen of the Moonlight,” he repeated my words but they were barely more than a whisper. He had to say them to himself, taste them on his tongue, so he would know that what I had said was true.

Suddenly, I could feel hesitation and anxiety through our bond, his emotions echoing through me. “You don’t have to become part of my court if you don’t want to. It was merely an offer,” I hurried to say and tried to meet his doubt with reassurance, “It’s your choice.”

“That’s not it,” he said and his throat bobbed. “Then what is it?” My stomach turned leaden, expecting the worst. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he looked at me with marvel, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ten songs that inspired me the most whilst writing:
> 
> 1.“I Found” by Amber Run  
> 2.“Where You Are” by Portico and Jono McCleery  
> 3.“Afterglow” by Phaeleh and Soundmouse  
> 4.“Everything In Its Right Place” by Radiohead  
> 5.“Miss You” by Trentemøller  
> 6.“Filmic — Original Mix” by Above & Beyond  
> 7.“Retrograde” by James Blake  
> 8.“Arrival of the Birds” by The Cinematic Orchestra  
> 9.“Two Bodies — Lido Remix” by Fight Facilities and Emma Louise  
> 10.“Gemini (feat. George Maple)” by What So Not


	11. Chapter 11

Lazily, I peeked through my eyelashes and stretched luxuriously, the sheets soft against my naked skin. The golden light of the few candles that were still alight barely illuminated our room, but I enjoyed the sight of my lover all the same. The man who could, possibly, become my future King.

Last night when he had professed his feelings to me, my only response had been a kiss. There had been no need to tell him how I felt. Michael already knew, could tell by the bond that was now stronger than ever and had acted as a channel, letting my own emotions flutter into him, unrestrained. His confession had been my ultimate undoing, had sealed my fate, and I finally allowed myself to surrender to my still growing infatuation with him. I knew what this connection and channel meant, of course. But there was no need to tell him about it just now. 

With tender fingers, I brushed a silky strand of golden hair away from his handsome face, breathing in the peacefulness that surrounded him in this very moment. Yes, he was intense and dramatic, and, yes, it annoyed me at times. But right now, my heart ached for him. So unbearably. In this moment, I knew that I was done questioning whether or not it was the best idea to lie with the devil’s son. If this was the beginning of the end, then so be it.

While Michael was still fast asleep, I decided to get ready for the day. After a shower, I slipped into the shirt and pants of an old uniform that was stored away in the closet, deciding that it would suit a female just as well. As I folded up the sleeves of the shirt, I smirked at the fact that the Grand Chancellor would throw a fit over seeing a woman wearing the clothing of his precious male students. It was obvious that he was more than ready to overturn the matriarchy and I had to give him at least some credit for even trying; especially because he would never succeed.

“You look delicious.” Michael’s soft voice made me turn around, a smile on my lips. “I thought you might appreciate this,” I chuckled and sat down beside him before brushing a small kiss against his lips. Intuitively, his arm snaked around me, pulling me close, but I put my palm against his naked chest, “The Supreme is very close. We will be summoned shortly.” My lover scowled at me, “Why didn’t you wake me sooner then?”

“You needed the rest. We both did.” My fingers interlaced with his when I paused, our eyes locking, “She will doubt you. Your powers are different, very different. And having me by your side may alarm her. Unless…” Michael’s thumb brushed over the back of my hand, “Unless?”

“I can obscure your darkness, hide it under a veil of simpler magic that she will find familiar,” I suggested. “Simple won’t make me Supreme,” he noted coldly and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him. “Don’t worry, she will consider my simple magic unique and astonishing. I’m a goddess, not an amateur,” I reminded him and pulled my hand away, “I thought you trusted me.”

He took my hand firmly in his again, “And I do. But there’s too much at stake. There’s no room for mistakes.” My power started to engulf his, just to remind him again who and what I was, “Should we misstep, should things not go as you wish, I can always reveal who I am. You consider these people my subjects and as my future King, it is your right to rule them. Either way. As a Supreme or as the Antichrist.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “Your King,” he echoed his title, the love in his voice melting the ice that had shot through my veins a moment earlier.  
Michael leaned in and kissed me. “Now, let your King worship you,” he breathed against my lips. “Cordelia is almost here,” I warned anew, although the well-known hunger for him was practically overwhelming. “Well, I don’t need long to make you scream, my Queen,” he promised and pulled me down with him.

Quick and clever hands unbuttoned the shirt and pants, ridding me of the clothing I had only just finished adjusting. “You won’t need your hands,” he teased and tied up my wrists with the velvety bow that had adorned the shirt. “Not fair,” I cooed while he pressed his lips against my neck, teeth grazing my skin hungrily. “What isn’t fair is the fact that you didn’t wake me earlier to have my sweet time with you,” he murmured before letting his lips wander down to my breasts, “Now keep your hands above your head. No touching.”

All I wanted was to weave my fingers into his wonderful hair when he took one of my nipples into his mouth, biting it gingerly while his hand already dipped between my legs. Intuitively my body arched into his touch and I moaned when he finally slipped a finger into me.

Michael knew how to work me now, knew in what ways he could quickly unravel me, making me call out his name so it would sound off the walls so that everyone knew who I belonged to and how only he could make me feel. And this time he was working swiftly, not hungry for his own release but only mine, relishing in the satisfaction of seeing me squirm under his touch, completely at his mercy — his personal feast. As the earth-shattering orgasm finally ripped through me, I knew that I owed him the same courtesy when we would return to our room.

By the time we were decent again, the warlocks had already welcomed the Supreme.   
It wasn’t necessary for Michael and me to oversee the arrival of Cordelia and her entourage to know who she had brought: a fairly strong, middle-aged confidante and a gifted youth. Neither of them posed a threat, but their annoyance hung around them like a thick cloud that suggested we’d be on guard either way. They didn’t want to be here and they didn’t make it a secret.

“Remember to stay composed. If you need me, I’m only a small tug away,” I smiled and smoothed over his dark jacket. He gave me a small nod and kissed me gently before disappearing into the library.   
Michael’s darkness was stored away securely, hidden under a web of magic that I had carefully woven around it. The web on its own would be strong enough to bring the witches and warlocks to their knees. I had enjoyed the challenge of creating this intricate work and ignored the fact that it strained me. If anything, being with Michael pushed my powers and me out of our comfort zone. He made me grow, much more than William or Clémence.

As the Antichrist shook the Supreme’s hand, he let me dive into him, allowing me to see what he saw, hear what he could hear. With my eyes closed, I leaned against the wall just outside the library, observing the beautiful witch whose warm, yet cunning doe eyes regarded my lover with great suspicion.   
“A male Supreme is unheard of,” she reminded the council firmly, not trying to hide her discontent, “Men are simply not equal to women when it comes to magical abilities.”   
“Not to mention everything else,” her confidante, Myrtle Snow, a dramatically dressed redhead chimed in. They were a tough audience, to say the least.

A smirk spread on my face as I allowed a tendril of our magic to sweep over them, soft like a caressing summer wind. Myrtle Snow grimaced in response and the young witch, Zoe Benson flinched. Cordelia’s face, however, was still set in stone. Impressive. She was nothing if not a true leader.   
However, the display of power was convincing enough to shift the discussion. Michael politely reminded her that he had already passed the Seven Wonders and had only refrained from claiming his rightful position as a considerate gesture. Myrtle Snow wanted to snap something at him, but the Supreme silenced her by raising her hand, “He did pass the tests.”   
Zoe Benson shifted in her seat nervously, her observant eyes flickering back and forth as Myrtle broke into a heated argument much to the dismay of the warlocks.

“It is my decision to accept Michael as my successor,” Cordelia eventually concluded and inclined her head slightly towards the Grand Chancellor whose disgustingly triumphant smirk produced a grimace on my face. I quickly returned to my own vision to be rid of him and pushed myself off the wall when I heard Cordelia ask about Michael’s female companion.  
“I hear she is Clémence’s protégé,” she commented and as no one agreed, I assumed that whoever she had directed the question at was nodding. “Why would the undead get involved?” Myrtle asked, honest curiosity lacing her words.

“They’re not involved. Only me,” I clarified and stepped through the double doors, everyone’s attention suddenly shifting towards me, “It’s an honor to finally meet you, Miss Goode.” I inclined my head deeply, paying her respects that the warlocks didn’t deserve.   
Pride and affection flickered through the bond and it took a lot of restraint to stop myself from meeting my lover’s gaze.   
“The honor is mine, Miss Sheridan. Your Queen has told me so much about you. Please, sit with me,” she gestured towards the heavy couches as if this was her house. I instantaneously liked her. “In case you missed it, that was your dismissal, Grand Chancellor,” I clarified and smiled sweetly at the lingering warlock. Zoe couldn’t keep herself from chuckling as his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes flaring with anger.

The Supreme politely asked her companions to leave as well and I gave Michael a small nod, assuring him that it was better if I spoke to her on my own. Hesitatingly, he left, closing the heavy double doors behind himself.

“I trust that our conversation is confidential?” The knowing smile on her lips implied her awareness and disapproval of Michael being able to listen in whenever he wanted to. “You should be more worried about the Grand Chancellor and his underlings. If anyone defies you, it’s them,” I reminded her and crossed my legs, folding my hands in my lap the way I had learned, sitting before her like the princess I had trained to become.

She arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow, “Isn’t Michael one of his underlings then?” Although I didn’t let my face show it, I almost snorted, “How can he, as the rising Supreme, be considered an underling? Especially to someone whose gifts are merely mediocre.” A clatter traveled through the doors of the library as if something had been dropped in bafflement. Cordelia and I shared a venomous yet content grin. She really didn’t like Ariel. Good.

“You should seal off the room, Miss Cordelia,” I suggested politely and pretended to shut the passageway connecting me to Michael, carefully concealing the fact that I left it standing ajar. Just in case. I would not disrespect my King.   
With fascination, I watched her cast a simple protective spell that would keep anyone from overhearing our meeting. She had certainly been gifted generously and it was obvious that she usually lead her Coven with immense consciousness of her own power and the responsibilities that came with it. Usually.

“Tell me, Miss Valentine, why do you support the young warlock? As a future Child of the Night, it should not necessarily be of interest to you who is my immediate successor.” She didn’t have to spell out that she meant that I was not the Vampire Queen yet and thus getting involved in their power structure was none of my business.   
“I will be turned sooner than you may expect and my mentor is not planning on training me for a century. The throne has been waiting for me for a long time. Your immediate successor is very much of interest to me,” I clarified and enjoyed the surprise that flickered over her face for just a moment.   
It would be easy enough to assume that a vampire’s immortality meant that I wasn’t to be enthroned for at least the next generation. And it could very much be the truth, but she didn’t need to know that. “Besides, Clémence takes great pride in including me in her decisions and politics. As an heiress, I have sway and power. She values my opinion as much as I hers.”

Cordelia pursed her lips when she realized that my youth couldn’t undermine my authority, “Then answer my initial question. Why do you support Michael?”   
I straightened my spine, “Because these noxious men have misused him for their own power play. He was in desperate need of someone to stand with him and as a successor myself, it was a natural choice to offer my support. After all, I haven’t been so unfortunate to have been guided by someone who only caters to their own interests instead of my needs.” It wasn’t a lie…only a half-truth.

The Supreme’s face softened. “I had feared that the Grand Chancellor,” she spoke the name mockingly and it coaxed a small smile from me, “would push this only to have the satisfaction of seeing my powers fade as his own rises.” I nodded in agreement. “Your companion could have come to me for guidance,” she concluded.   
“Could he really?” I checked coldly, knowing that she only said it to please me. She blinked, surprised by me doubting her offer. “You could have extended your guidance when you first learned about his potential instead of just putting him off as an imposter. We both know that he would have thrived with your help.”

An inquisitive tug through the bond told me that Michael wasn’t sure where I was going with this, but I ignored it. He needed to understand that these people initially wouldn’t want to revolt against him, didn’t need to be wiped from existence, but could be potential allies instead. He needed to see that he had been manipulated into believing that the witches were villains.

“Do you believe him?” Cordelia suddenly demanded, “Do you truly believe he is the next Supreme?” There was someone else, there had to be. Her hesitation could only mean that there was a young woman in her Coven that showed enough potential to query Michael’s claim.

I set my face into a calm mask and shrugged nonchalantly, “If his potential is unwanted amongst the witches and warlocks, then he has a place at my court. I have offered him to become my consort and will turn him if he so wishes. Imagine someone as powerful as him, sired from my blood.” Not a threat, but a challenge.

The truth was, I had never considered turning him because I had never entertained the idea of him being with me once I was made a vampire. I wasn’t even sure whether or not Michael could be turned. Yes, he was human, but would his body and powers withstand the change? Could he even tolerate vampire blood?   
Without a doubt, he would be perfect vampire-material. After all, he was a dark prince incarnate, being undead would suit him disturbingly well. His angelic features would be refined, his hair would look like woven gold, and his pale blue eyes would blaze like glacial ice. His enticement would be beyond compare, a creature of pure sublime.

Suddenly, I felt how Michael pulled at my awareness. He had followed my small daydream with amusement, his tug gentle and loving. To my relief, he wasn’t angry with me but appeared positively surprised by my unexpected offer and consideration.

As I focused back on Cordelia, who had apparently also succumbed to the vision of Michael as a vampire, something above ground caught my attention. The polite smile that had been plastered to my face faltered and I met the Supreme’s eyes as she, too, felt the ripple of cold power slowly seeping through the ground and hanging over the academy like a heavy haze. It was danger, nothing but pure, immeasurable danger.  
“Did you?” I asked and she shook her head immediately. “I wouldn’t. Not here,” she replied and I believed her. A Supreme wouldn’t be this reckless. But a Gand Chancellor would.

Cordelia and I rose and hurried to the doors that were flung open by Michael before we could reach them. When I stood before him, his hands cupped my face, “Who is this powerful?” He wasn’t exactly alarmed, but curious. With the Supreme and her entourage, as well as the warlocks so close I didn’t dare to say it out loud, but the warning I sent through the bond was clear and urgent enough to stifle his curiosity and turn it into uneasiness.   
“I won’t let you go. Not now,” he paused and kissed me, indifferent to the audience around us, “Not after just having found you.”   
“You won’t have to, I promise,” I reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before I pulled him after me, heading towards the elevator swiftly. Behind us, the witches and warlocks fell into step, well-knowing that they needed to face what was waiting above alongside their champion.

“You just sealed your fate, Ariel,” I hissed as the doors slid close and I braced myself for what was to come. “Threatening me again, Miss Sheridan?” he snapped back and I looked down upon the small man whose megalomania had finally gotten the better of him.   
“No, Grand Chancellor. That wasn’t a threat. It was your death sentence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry that it took me forever to continue this, but I’m really excited about the next chapter already! Hope you enjoyed this one! 🖤
> 
> The top five songs that inspired me whilst writing:
> 
> “Apocalipstic” by Monarch  
> “Running Up That Hill” by Matthew Young  
> “Somebody Else” by The 1975  
> “Used to Be” by Devon Baldwin  
> “The Beginning of the End” by Klergy and Valerie Broussard

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
